Saint Stefan the Ripper
by tremolux
Summary: Stefan goes rogue after learning the truth about Elena and Damon's relationship. As the bodies pile up, Damon and Elena race to stop Stefan before he reaches the point of no return and completely succumbs to his dark side.
1. A Wakeup Call

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 1: A WAKE-UP CALL**

* * *

Damon Salvatore rolled over in bed, having just been awakened by the ringing cell phone on the nightstand. It was only 4:22 a.m., too damn early for anyone to be calling, he thought. Yet there was the phone, ringing and ringing, mocking him. Damon reluctantly reached out from under the black satin bedsheets, picked up the phone, and when he noticed that the caller was Liz Forbes, he answered without hesitation.

"Damon? I'm sorry to bother you so early," Liz apologized, "but it just couldn't wait."

"No apology needed, Liz," a groggy Damon responded. He rubbed at his eyes with his free hand.

She continued. "This morning, a deputy found two bodies in an alley. Both teenage females. We're trying to I.D. them right now," she said.

"Let me guess: two puncture wounds on the neck, drained of blood?" Damon offered with a degree of confidence.

"Not exactly. These girls weren't drained, at least not in the normal sense..." Liz trailed off. Damon detected just a hint of shakiness in her voice. He knew right then that something had to be _really_ off. Liz wasn't the type to be easily spooked.

"Liz, you sound a bit rattled, are you alright?" Damon asked with genuine concern.

"I'm fine," she quickly assured him. "It's just that I've seen a lot of attacks, but never anything like this..." Liz trailed off again. Damon was about to say something to prompt her, when she continued. "These corpses were mutilated, almost beyond recognition. It's like the most vicious animal attack you could imagine, times ten. They were just ripped to shreds. I've never seen anything this gruesome, Damon."

In a flash, Damon sat up in bed. All of the sleepiness had instantly vanished from his body. "Did you say 'ripped?'" Damon asked, hoping that her story would somehow come back completely different from the one he'd just heard.

"That's right," she confirmed. "All torn up, limb from limb. Flesh and organs all over the place. Maybe you should alert the Council?"

Damon paused briefly to think. "Not just yet," he answered. "Better not to freak everybody out until we can at least get a better handle on the situation."

"Alright," she said, "I'll call you as soon as any news comes in."

"Talk to you soon," Damon responded. "Oh and Liz... take care of yourself, alright?"

"Thanks; I will," Liz assured him, and hung up.

* * *

Damon put the phone back down on the nightstand and collapsed back into bed, exhaling deeply. "_Not_ good, _not_ good, _not_ good . . ." he muttered to himself quietly, as he considered the situation. He was just about to get up when a very drowsy and sleepy-eyed Elena rolled over to his side of the bed, draped one bare arm over his chest, and rested her head against his shoulder.

Elena yawned. "Not good." Her speech was slurred, due to her state of half-sleep. _"It was wonderful."_

"Did I wake you?" Damon asked. He stroked Elena's hair lovingly.

"The phone did," Elena replied. "Sheriff Forbes?"

"Did you sleep alright?" Damon asked, dodging the question. He didn't want to burden her with the bad news. Not now. But he knew he would have to do it very soon.

Elena just smiled. "What we did last night hardly counts as _sleep_, don't you think?" she playfully suggested.

Elena wanted to bask in the moment. After all, it was a special one. She had spent many a night in the old Salvatore boarding house, but last night was the first one that she was able to spend in _Damon's_ bed. Elena's relationship with Damon had always been such a slow burn. But last night was more like a raging inferno. She always had that idle spark of _Petrova__ fire_ hiding beneath the surface, and Damon knew exactly how to light it up.

It was never her intent to drive a wedge between the two brothers. She certainly never wanted to follow in Katherine's footsteps. Yet here she was, with a Salvatore on each arm. It was not Elena's style to jump from one bed to the next. But when their feelings for each other became undeniable, Elena and Damon decided they had to finally confront Stefan with the truth. And, after a period of depression, Stefan had actually begun to show signs of acceptance.

Poor Stefan. Elena never wanted to hurt him, but she didn't exactly feel sorry for him, either. She had grown tired of his jealousy and subtle manipulation. She finally realized why Stefan had become increasingly clingy and possessive. It was not a matter of love or affection, but rather a means to prevent her from growing closer to Damon. Too late for that! Elena had already surrendered to her true feelings. Moreover, she had given up on all the excuses Damon ever gave her to hate him. She wasn't sure if she was even capable of hate in the first place.

Elena often wondered what it was exactly that kept her and the Salvatores tied so closely together. What Elena had with Stefan was so sweet, and comfortable. But what she found with Damon was like pure electricity. Damon always pushed her buttons, and she pushed right back. He awakened something in her that was otherwise hidden, and she did the same for him. She felt that Damon truly helped her_ grow _as a human being. He made her feel incredible highs. Of course, he was also very capable of doing the complete opposite. That was the downside. That was always the risk.

Stefan was always the safe choice. Elena knew that she and Damon had the potential to literally _destroy_ each other, and the idea absolutely terrified her_._ Nevertheless, she finally decided it was a risk worth taking. She knew the risk, but she had to_ know him._ Stefan was her boyfriend... but _Damon!_ Damon was her Man.


	2. Another Rude Awakening

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 2: ****ANOTHER RUDE AWAKENING**

**

* * *

**

Damon sat back in his bed, immersed in deep thought. Elena had fallen asleep again, which gave him some time to think and prepare. His mind was filled with plans, probabilities, possibilities, and outcomes, and he played them all over and over again in his head like little movies. He hoped against hope that the story Liz told him would turn out to be just a fluke, just some random maniac, and **not** Stefan. But he knew better. Damon's instincts rarely ever led him astray. All of the pieces fit.

Elena woke up several hours later, but from Damon's perspective, it seemed like only a matter of minutes. Elena shrugged off her sleepiness, rubbed her eyes, and upon seeing Damon, sat up next to him, just basking in the afterglow of their night together. But she soon noticed that his expression was one of concern, and it bothered her. She wondered what was on his mind. She reached over and touched his face. That got his attention.

"I've never seen you with stubble before," she said, fascinated. "It's very sexy." She was hoping to shake him out of his trance-like state.

Damon forced a half-smile, but Elena saw right through it. He was definitely uneasy about something, but wasn't talking about it. And that made _her_ feel uneasy.

"Hey, if I wanted to wake up next to a broody and tortured vampire, I would have stayed with Stefan," Elena joked. Normally, she thought, Damon would have found that funny, but today it had no effect. Something was clearly _wrong_.

Elena was getting nervous. It was not like Damon to shut her out. What was it? Irrational fears began to dance through her mind. She worried that it might be about her. She worried that his feelings for her had somehow changed. And she just couldn't deal with that. She dreaded the very thought.

After what felt like an eternity, Damon snapped out of it, and he pulled Elena close. He wished he could express just how glad he was to simply be with her, but he couldn't. He just **hated** the awful timing of it all. And most of all, he _hated himself_ for what he was about to say - for what he needed to tell her.

"Elena," he sighed, "I know this is completely untimely and definitely** not** what you want to hear right after a night of magical ecstatic bliss, but . . ."

Elena went numb with anticipation.

"We've got a real-life _crisis_ on our hands," he declared. "As in CRISIS, with all capital letters... I need to call Ric."

With that, Damon jumped out of bed and quickly slipped into some black jeans.

Elena could just _feel_ his anxiety, but she also couldn't deny her own disappointment. She had _finally_ gotten some time alone with him, and now it was just slipping away. It was so frustrating! She wished she could be selfish with him for just a while longer. "Wait, what's so urgent that it could pull _you_ away from_ me_ right now?" she challenged.

Damon only gave her a few words: "He's ripping again."

* * *

Elena was puzzled. "Ripping what? Who?" she asked eagerly.

Damon sighed. It wasn't his intent to hold back on Elena. She deserved to know the truth. "Alright, I still don't know exactly how to say this, or how to help you understand it, but I'll do my best . . ."

He paused to consider the weight of the statement he was about to lay on her. Then he took a deep breath and just let it fly.

"Stefan is basically a psychotic, schizophrenic, sadistic serial killer who enjoys mutilating young women for pleasure," Damon stated plainly.

Elena felt like she had just been kicked in the stomach. She was totally speechless. She wanted to find something to say but it was like her brain had frozen up, unable to process the words. There may have been a witty air to Damon's statement but that didn't change its overall meaning. If those words had come from _anyone but Damon_, she wouldn't have believed it! After all, it was a tough pill to swallow. But she had come to rely on Damon's often brutal honesty.

Damon went on. "Liz found two girls, ripped to shreds. And Stefan didn't come home last night," he added.

Elena's expression went grim. "Oh my God... but how is it even possible? I mean this is _Saint __Stefan_ we're talking about!"

"It gets worse," Damon said, "much worse. Get dressed and I'll explain."

"But I can't," Elena confided, "I threw my clothes out the window last night, in a fit of passion. Remember?"

Finally, a hint of a _real_ smile appeared on Damon's face. And it made Elena _ecstatic._

Damon reached into his closet, pulled out terrycloth bathrobe, and tossed it to Elena. He grabbed a black button-down shirt for himself, took it off the hanger, and threw it on haphazardly, not yet bothering to button it. He paced the room for a moment and then sat down on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. Elena scooted up next to him.

"I still don't quite get it," she said. "I mean, vampires don't even do that sort of thing, right? Ripping people up?"

"No, _most_ vampires don't do that sort of thing," Damon corrected her. "But there are always a tiny minority who are a total freak show." He threw his arms up in the air. "That's our Stefan!"

Elena was still having trouble wrapping her head around it all. "I guess I just don't see it," she said. "Stefan was always so compassionate, so caring... so _dull_... so _boring_..."

"Haven't you seen any classic slasher films?" Damon joked. "It's _always_ the nice guy you least suspect who turns out to be the lunatic killer!"

"Well when you put it that way, the shoe kind of fits," she admitted. She got up behind him and began to massage his shoulders, hoping to ease his tension a bit. "Good thing I'm with the _bad _boy right now," she said playfully.

Damon's inflection took a more serious turn. "Elena, you've really only seen one half of Stefan," he told her. "But there is a **much darker** half."

"But I've seen him crazy on human blood before," Elena said. "Is it like that, or...?" she asked.

"That's only the tip of the iceberg," Damon explained, "and unless somebody stops him, and quickly, he's going to make hamburger meat out of this town." Damon was certainly dedicated, but the townspeople were not his primary concern; Elena was.

"My God." Elena exhaled in despair.

"That's my baby brother! Saint Stefan, The Ripper," Damon announced in his trademark sarcastic tone. "Aren't we a _charming_ little family?"

* * *

Elena had gone from concerned, to shocked, and now to _extremely_ worried. Worried about what could happen to Jeremy, Jenna, or any of her friends. She even worried about what Stefan was going through. Had he _really_ flipped out? Had she and Damon really lost him? But what worried her the most right now was the thought that something could happen to Damon. Their time together had only just started! She couldn't bear to lose him now.

Elena noticed that Damon's shirt was still open, so she buttoned it for him. She was delighted to do it. It was a distraction. Elena liked to keep her hands busy when she was nervous. It helped her to ignore the negative thoughts that threatened to take over her mind.

"Well, we have to do _something_, but what?" Elena asked, as she fastened another button.

Damon shook his head with authority. "Not **we**," he said bluntly. "**I** have to do something. **You** have to stay safe."

"Damon, there's **no way** I'm letting you face this alone!" she assured him. "Maybe I can get to him, talk him down. Stefan trusts me. He won't hurt me."

Damon just shook his head as he gently cradled her face in his hands. His voice got soft and quiet. "Elena, you don't know that," he warned her. "And I sure as hell don't like the idea of you risking it."

"But it's your choice," he finally conceded.

Elena nodded once, acknowledging his heartfelt words. It was all _so Damon_, she thought_._ He loved her so much. She knew that. But at the end of the day, he would not smother her or try to lock her up in some tower for safe keeping. She was free to make her own choices. And that was both refreshing _and_ a little scary. It was **so** different from the way Stefan treated her. Damon always treated her like an adult, an equal, she thought - well, about as equal as humans and vampires can be. Elena loved the honesty that she and Damon shared.

"Damn it!" Damon shouted, punching air. "I should have seen it coming!"

Elena threw her arms around him. "You can't blame yourself," she tried to comfort. "You could never have predicted it." Damon _wanted_ to believe her.

With all that had been going on, Damon almost forgot that he needed to make a call. He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and called Alaric Saltzman.

"Hey Damon," Alaric answered.

Damon wasted no time at all. "Sorry to trouble you, Ric," he apologized, "but I need you over here as soon as humanly possible."

"What's up?" Alaric asked.

Damon didn't hold back. "Stefan's gone ape shit. Better bring your gear."


	3. A Call to Arms

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 3: A CALL TO ARMS**

* * *

It was early afternoon by the time Alaric got to the Salvatore boarding house. He carried cardboard boxes filled with his rather impressive array of vampire-slaying weapons and ammunition, and began setting his wares out on a dusty old dining table.

Earlier, Elena and Damon had agreed that Jeremy needed to be a part of this too. They didn't really have a choice. Jeremy was Elena's closest relative, and therefore a potential target. They would all be safer working together as a group. It was also extremely fortunate that Jenna was visiting relatives in Vermont for a couple of weeks, so they didn't have to worry about her for a while.

Jeremy arrived only minutes after Alaric had begun unpacking the gear. He carried a backpack full of all the items that Damon had requested: detailed maps of Mystic Falls and the surrounding areas; binoculars; and some flashlights. Additionally, he had packed a few personal items, like a pocket knife, bottles of water, and some granola to munch on if he got hungry. Jeremy was way beyond excited to be involved. More than that, he was thrilled with the fact that _Damon_ suggested it. Of course, Jeremy knew that it wasn't for his vampire-hunting skills; his experience was minimal at best. He was just happy to be part of the action. It had to be his Gilbert heritage, he thought, that made him crave this sort of thing.

To say that Jeremy's relationship with Damon was an odd one would be an understatement. It seemed downright _strange_, by most standards. But Jeremy had always seen a little bit of himself in Damon, and he suspected it worked both ways. They both had vampire-hating parents. They both had loved and lost, in eerily similar scenarios. But mostly, they were both _outsiders._

Certainly, no one liked to mention "the incident," but Jeremy couldn't ignore the fact that both he and Damon had changed for the better since then. Jeremy gave up his suicidal tendencies, got off the drugs completely, and became more level-headed and confident in himself. Elena had noticed it, too. Jeremy was growing up.

Perhaps it was the lack of a strong male figure in his life that explained Jeremy's affinity for Damon. There were certainly _much better_ male role models out there than _Damon_, of all people. But for a mix of intangible reasons, Jeremy took to him. Damon didn't quite understand the dynamic, nor did he particularly care, but he recognized it.

* * *

Damon took a few minutes to brief Alaric and Jeremy on the important background information, and then they got right down to business. Alaric waved everyone over, and they all gathered around the old dining table to check out the goods.

"So, here are your traditional wooden stakes, of various sizes," Alaric showed them, "and some vervain darts, always handy..." he said. Alaric picked up a large crossbow. "Now this one's a personal favorite of mine. Really accurate, and powerful enough to take down a vampire from a good, safe distance."

Damon picked up some kind of homemade stake-firing rifle and admired it, saying "I wish they made toys like this when I was a kid." Alaric had a good laugh.

Elena looked down at the weapons with dismay. They all looked so _deadly_ to her. "How about we stick with the _non-lethal_ types for now?" she suggested.

Damon let out a moan. "Awwww, do we _really_ have to?" he whined. Elena just gave him _the look._

Alaric picked up what looked like a semi-automatic with a huge canister attached. "Now this one here is new. It's basically just an old paintball gun I rigged up to shoot vervain-filled pellets... won't kill him, but would _definitely_ stun him, and cause _a lot_ of pain..." he boasted proudly.

"Oh Ric," Damon said, "have I mentioned how _glad_ I am that we're _not_ enemies?"

"Well, those are the basics..." Alaric said. "So Damon, what's the plan?"

"Simple enough..." Damon said, "we take Stefan down, before he kills the whole town... Hey! That rhymed!"

"How do we find him?" Alaric asked.

"That's the difficult part," Damon admitted. "I was hoping Liz would have some leads for me by now, but no such luck. We'll just have to wait. Stefan could be anywhere. But he'll have to come out sooner or later to kill again."

Elena jumped in. "But then he'll just kill, and go back into hiding," she said.

"Yes..." Damon admitted, "but rippers tend to get sloppy. He's bound to mess up. He'll leave a trail, and then we'll nail him."

Damon knew it wasn't much of a plan. As a matter of fact it was quite weak. But he offered it up anyway. He only did it because he did **not** want to have to resort to the second option. In fact, he didn't even want to _speak _about the second option.

Elena didn't like the plan at all. "But that still means we're just waiting and allowing him to kill more people, just so we can track him..." she said. Alaric and Jeremy agreed.

Damon swallowed his pride and defended the weak plan to the best of his ability. "Look, I agree, it's not a very proactive plan. But no matter what we do, we've got about a snowball's chance in hell of finding him today, anyway. He _will_ kill again, and you can bet it will be sooner rather than later. Maybe even tonight."

Elena still didn't like it, but Damon did have a point. Short of a miracle happening, they were not going to finish this job today.

"So if we can't find him, what's the alternative?" Alaric asked Damon.

Damon swallowed hard. He had hoped they would just accept the weak plan and take it from there. He hoped it wouldn't come down to this, but they forced his hand.

"The other option..." Damon trailed off. "We get him to come to us."

"And how do we do that?" Alaric wanted to know. He was already reading between the lines, but he just had to ask.

Damon didn't speak.

Alaric wondered if Damon had missed the question, and whether or not he should repeat himself, when Damon finally answered:

"We use Elena."

* * *

_We use Elena._

It sounded so _sick; _so perverse. Damon _hated_ saying it. He hated hearing it, and thinking it. The words were like vervain in his mouth: bitter and poisonous. But he forced himself to deliver them as deadpan and emotionless as possible, so that it wouldn't reveal that _he cared_; so it wouldn't reveal that _he loved her._

Damon knew that _caring_ was a **weakness** that could be exploited, and for that reason, he never wore it on his sleeve. It was one of his rules, and he lived by it. Even though everyone in the room were allies working towards a common goal. Even though they were people he knew, and for the most part, trusted. And even though _they already knew_ that he and Elena were together, Damon _still_ did not want to broadcast the fact to anyone else. _Only she could know. _

Elena was taken aback by the second option. What did it mean?, she wondered. It was obvious to her that Stefan's breakdown was a direct result of her growing relationship with Damon. Stefan was jealous, and he snapped, she thought. But she hadn't considered that Stefan might actually be _out to get her. _And what exactly would Stefan do if he found her? Elena had no idea.

"So you think he'll come for Elena," Alaric offered up to Damon, not quite as a question, but more as a confirmation.

Damon didn't need to _think_; he **knew. **Stefan _was_ coming for Elena, sooner or later.

"Those two girls he killed last night..." Damon said, "that was just his way of sending a message to me and Elena."

"What's the message?" asked Jeremy.

Damon picked up a crossbow and sighted it at the fireplace. "Just that he's back to his old tricks again," he said. "The ripper's back. He wanted us to know."

"Still positive you want to use the _non-lethal_ ones?" Damon whispered to Elena.

Elena didn't answer. She was beginning to see Damon's point that Stefan could be a potential threat to her. But she still had doubts. And Damon noticed. And he worried that it would lead to her downfall.

* * *

"Well, this is getting to be epic!" Jeremy said to Elena, in an attempt to lighten the mood a little.

At that moment, someones cell phone started to ring, and everyone looked around. It was Damon's.

Damon retreived the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. "It's Liz," he announced. "Liz, what's up?"

"Sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner, Damon." Liz apologized. "We were able to identify the victims. We've notified their families, questioned them, and put together a few more details about the night in question."

"What have you got for me?" Damon asked. He didn't want to waste any time.

"Looks like the two girls were just going out for a night of clubbing and bar hopping. They started out around 9:00 p.m., and were last seen at a bar just outside of town around 12:30 a.m."

"Could you do me a favor and text me the address of that bar?" Damon asked, "I might look into it, myself." Damon felt that it wouldn't be of much value, but at least it was _something._

"No problem," Liz replied. "I'll let you know as soon as anything else comes in."

"Great, talk to you soon." said Damon.

"Bye Damon," Liz said, "Oh, wait!" she shouted, "I almost forgot..."

"Yeah?" Damon asked.

"Your brother asked me to give you a message," Liz said.

Damon nearly dropped his phone. Did he _really_ just hear Liz say that she had _a mess__age from Stefan? _

"... you talked to _Stefan_?" Damon asked, trying to conceal his surprise. Upon hearing the words, everyone else in the room stood at full attention.

"Yeah, I just saw him," Liz said, "He was at the Mystic Grill. Anyway, he just asked me to tell you this..."

Damon heard what sounded like crumpling paper. Liz must have been reading from a note, he thought.

"Here's the message," she said, _"Two is company; Three is a crowd."_

Damon said nothing.

"I assume that's some kind of code you guys use?" Liz asked. "Anyway, never mind; it's none of my business."

"By the way, Liz, _when_ exactly did you see him at the Grill?" Damon asked with heavy anticipation.

"Oh, it was just now... not more than ten minutes ago," Liz replied.

Damon was _very_ pleased. They could get a jump on him!

"Oh and Damon," Liz continued, "you might want to talk to Stefan about his drinking habits. He was just heading to the bar, but he already looked like he'd had _one too many_, if you know what I mean."

Damon gulped hard. Talk about a near miss! If Stefan had flipped out on Liz, things would have taken an even more tragic turn for the worse, Damon thought.

"That's my baby bro, always causing trouble," Damon said, relishing the irony of it all. "I'll talk to him. Thanks Liz."

"Goodbye Damon," she said, and hung up.

Damon put down the phone, and a sinister smile crossed his face. Everyone was practically folded over with anticipation.

"He's at the grill _right now_," Damon said coolly.

"Let's go!" Alaric proclaimed, with no sense of trepidation. "I'll drive."

Elena was worried. She didn't like surprises like this, especially ones that would lead her and her friends straight into the face of danger. But within moments she and Jeremy were loading up gear into Alaric's SUV. Damon threw on his black leather jacket and grabbed a blood bag, and they all jumped in the car. Elena and Jeremy hopped in the back seat, while Damon rode shotgun. They were peeling out of the driveway not more than three minutes after Damon had hung up the phone.


	4. A Killer Plan

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 4: ****A KILLER PLAN  
**

* * *

"Come on Ric, quit driving like an old lady and _give it some gas_, man!" Damon encouraged with a clenched jaw.

Alaric drove fast. _Really_ fast. But apparently not as fast as Damon would have liked. The afternoon sun was bright, so Alaric reached into the glove box, pulled out a pair of huge aviator sunglasses, and put them on. Damon frowned at the sight of them.

"What the hell are _those_ supposed to be?" Damon scoffed.

"What!" Alaric defensively fired back.

"We're supposed to be inconspicuous. _Those_ make us look like we just stepped out of some cheesy 1970's buddy-cop drama," Damon joked. "You gonna grow a mustache now, too?"

Alaric just shook his head, smiled, and stepped on the gas. But it was both funny _and_ true. He and Damon were such an unlikely duo, and they _did_ almost appear comical at times. But hey, Alaric thought, the two of them made an excellent team. In fact, they were downright _bad-ass_.

Damon was all fired up. In fact, he was having a blast. He was visibly animated with excitement over getting the jump on Stefan. He was bouncing around in his seat, and beating his hands on the dashboard as if playing bongo drums. He loved the rush of it all. He worked well under pressure, and he knew it.

With the little time available, Damon formulated a plan in his mind. Then he took out his blood bag, and between sips of blood, began to dictate the plan to the crew.

"Alright, first thing..." Damon began, "safety precautions..." He took another sip of blood.

"Stefan's going to be strong... well, stronger than usual. He'll also be more _dangerous_ than usual," Damon went on. "Think of him like a rabid dog. He might look _cute_... he might seem _friendly_... but do not, I repeat, _do not_ approach him. Do you hear me Elena? _Do not pet him, Elena._"

Damon turned around and looked Elena straight in the eyes. "He could **snap** at the slightest provocation," he said as he snapped his fingers, "just like that. Understand?"

Elena understood. The pressure was building. They were only a block away from Mystic Grill. Alaric pulled down a side street, tires screeching, and brought the vehicle to a stop. It was almost time. But for now, they just sat in the parked car and listened to Damon explain the battle plan.

Damon held his blood bag up in the air. "Anyone else want a sip? No? Your loss."

Jeremy laughed. "So what's the plan, Damon?"

"Alright," Damon said, "I'm going to slip in through the back and make sure that area of the building is all clear and Stefan-free. I'll wait back there near the bathrooms. Ric? You go with Jeremy and Elena to the front of the building. Wait outside."

Alaric nodded.

"Ric, you wait for my signal," Damon continued. "I'll ring your phone twice. Go in through the front door. Be casual, but work your way towards Stefan. I'm betting that once he sees you coming, he'll start to panic and make a run out the back way. That's when I'll grab him."

"And if he doesn't run?" Alaric asked.

"If Stefan doesn't run, you ring my phone twice," Damon answered. "Then you move in to distract him, while I sneak up and grab him from behind."

"Got it," Alaric confirmed.

"Elena and Jeremy," Damon went on, "You two stay outside, in front of the building. _Stay together_ at all times. Don't leave each others side for **any** reason. If Stefan manages to slip out the front door, you two will be there to surprise him. Hear me?"

Damon took one last sip of blood and tossed the empty bag to the floor.

"I want _everyone_ armed with Ric's vervain darts. Keep them hidden, but ready to go," Damon informed the whole crew. "If Stefan approaches you, don't _talk_ to him, don't _engage_ him, just take one of those needles and plunge it right into his side. We'll just calmly announce to everyone that he's fainted, and that everything is okay. And then we'll carry his paralyzed ass out of there. Everyone got it?"

Everyone got it. They all stepped out of car and started moving towards their positions.

* * *

At the beginning of the ride to Mystic Grill, Elena was feeling _very_ anxious. But right now she felt ready, willing, and able. She was excited, even. In fact, she wanted to _kick some ass._ It was Damon who turned her mood around completely. It was _how he responded_ to the crisis. It was the way he _faced the problem_ head on, the way he took charge, and the way he laid out his plan. It was because he _didn't_ shelter her, or hide the truth from her, or just say 'everything is going to be fine,' the way Stefan used to. It was a perfect plan, she thought. Damon was an amazing leader when things came down to the wire, and she loved that about him.

Jeremy was stoked just as much as Elena. He thought the plan was brilliant. It was definitely impressive for something made up totally "on the fly." He and Elena took their positions with Alaric at the front of the grill. They all hung around very casually, but each of them scanned the perimeter of the building for any sign of Stefan.

Meanwhile, Damon casually strolled down the alley behind Mystic Grill, and headed to the back of the building. He decided that instead of going through the public door, he would enter through the kitchen and work his way inward. That way, there was less risk of Stefan spotting him and making an early break for it. Damon wanted this operation to be quick, clean, precise, and discreet. He wanted it over with, _right now._

"Hey, you can't come in here!" a female cook shouted as she flipped hamburgers on a hot grill.

"I just did," Damon said plainly as he brushed right by her, pushed his way through the very busy kitchen, and made his way towards the bathrooms.

"Better check those first," Damon said to himself under his breath. He'd be a fool not to, he thought. He didn't want any surprises; nor did he want to leave _any_ room for error. Damon charged into the mens' room and took a look around. No Stefan. Then he strutted right into the ladies' room, ignoring the the shrieks of the women who were in there. No Stefan. Good, he thought. Better safe than sorry. He pulled out his phone, and rang Alaric twice. It was showtime.

Alaric got the signal and then entered through the front door. Elena and Jeremy remained outside. Alaric walked with a leisurely pace as he entered and looked around. He let his eyes scan around the dimly-lit interior, but he didn't see Stefan. Alaric started walking towards the billiard tables and then towards the bar. _Nothing._ There was no sign of Stefan anywhere, he thought, so he headed towards the bathrooms where Damon was waiting. Damon was surprised to see him so soon.

"I don't see any sign of him," Alaric said.

"Damn it! We missed him? _You've got to be kidding me!_" Damon shouted and kicked the wall. He paused for a moment to regain his composure, then he snapped his fingers. "Okay, you get back to Elena and Jeremy. I'm going to check with the bartender. Meet you all back at the car."

Alaric nodded and walked away. Damon headed over to the bar. There were two men working behind the bar, and Damon approached them without hesitation.

"Hey, either of you guys know Stefan Salvatore?" Damon asked. He knew it was a long shot, but worth a try.

The first barkeep just shook his head and got back to work. But the second barkeep nodded, so Damon turned to him.

"You see him in here today?" Damon interrogated him.

"Yeah, he was just here. Left about... maybe ten minutes ago, I'd say," the barkeep said.

"How long was he in here? Did you notice what he was doing at all?" Damon asked with heavy anticipation. He was hoping to pick up some more clues.

"I don't know how long," the barkeep said. "But I did see him talk to the Sheriff for a bit. And he did come up here to drink. He looked drunk already, so I wasn't sure about serving him... but he does leave good tips, so I did!"

Damon was disappointed. There was no new information to be found there, except that Stefan was a generous tipper. A tipper and a ripper, how poetic, Damon thought to himself.

"So did he do anything else? Anything... _unusual_?" Damon prodded.

The barkeep looked up, thinking for a minute. "Nah, not really..." he answered. "He just had a couple drinks and left with some chick."

"_Some chick?_" Damon fired back. "Did you catch her name? Could you describe her?"

"Nah... she was blond, slim, fairly attractive... probably eighteen-ish, I'd say."

"Thanks..." Damon said despairingly. He took a deep breath.

"No problem," the barkeep said and turned away.

"Hey buddy," Damon called to the barkeep, "just one more thing."

The barkeep leaned forward, and Damon looked him straight in the eyes.

"You're going to forget you saw Stefan Salvatore and the girl he was with..." Damon spoke quietly, "and you're going to forget our conversation."

* * *

The car ride home sucked. Damon was pissed off.

"We _had_ him! We had him _right there_... we were _so damn_ _close!_" Damon shouted as he punched the seat of Alaric's SUV. "We had the jump on him... we had a _kick-ass_ plan, thanks to me..." Damon rambled on. Then he just sighed, and shook his head. "It would have been _too perfect._"

"Hey, don't beat yourself up," Jeremy said. "It was a killer plan... just the timing that was off."

"So, I take it there was no luck with the bartender either?" Alaric asked.

"Oh," Damon said, "he doesn't remember anything." It wasn't a lie.

"So, what can we do now?" Elena asked.

"Well, today's pretty much _shot_," Damon said, "but we can plan for tomorrow."

When they arrived back at the Salvatore boarding house, Alaric parked the SUV and they all grabbed their gear and headed in through the front door. They were only a few steps past the threshold when Damon's ears perked up. His extra-sensitive hearing picked up on a noise coming from the back of the house. In an instant, Damon spun around, and putting a finger to his lips, signaled for everyone to stop and be quiet.

Damon listened intently. He heard it again. It was like a creaking sound, but it stopped. But then he heard the same noise again. The creaking stopped and resumed. He recognized the pattern. They were footsteps. Someone was in the house.


	5. Don't Fear the Ripper

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 5: DON'T FEAR THE RIPPER**

* * *

The Salvatore boarding house was dead quiet and still. Damon, Alaric, Elena, and Jeremy stood motionless. Damon could still hear footsteps coming from somewhere inside.

"Someone is in the house," Damon whispered to the group. There was no doubt about it.

Alaric immediately pulled out two crossbows, and passed one over to Damon. _Team Badass_ sprang into action. Elena and Jeremy grabbed stakes and vervain darts.

Damon signalled for Elena and Jeremy to follow, but hang back. He then gestured for Alaric to start moving forward. They stepped as carefully and quietly as possible.

Damon tried to figure out exactly where in the house the footsteps were located, but with all the echoes in the huge boarding house, it was hard to tell.

A louder thumping was heard by everyone. Alaric pointed down the hall. Damon listened intently, and he heard more footsteps. They were getting louder. Now he knew they were coming from the library. And they were getting closer. Damon waved for Alaric to move up. They got to within fifteen feet of the library door and stopped.

"He's coming this way," Damon whispered, "we'll just wait for him." Alaric nodded.

Elena and Jeremy stayed back, but they could still see everything. Damon heard the footsteps growing louder and getting closer to the door. Soon Alaric was able to hear them too. They just waited with crossbows aimed, ready to fire.

"Come on out, psycho..." Damon thought to himself, "you're about to step right into a pile of knee-deep shit."

They watched the door as it creaked open little by little. It continued to slowly move until it was about one-third of the way open. But suddenly it just stopped, and there was no sound or motion at all.

Alaric and Damon exchanged brief quizzical glances. After what felt like twenty seconds or so, Damon proceeded to step as quietly as possible towards the door. That's when the door jerked open, and a figure emerged.

"_Caroline!_" Elena shouted.

"_Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"_ Caroline screamed, throwing her arms up in the air.

False alarm.

Caroline regained her composure. "No offense people," she said, "but all the _vampire-killing weapons_ pointed at me don't make for a very warm welcome!"

Damon and Alaric lowered their crossbows. Damon was already angry from the failed mission, but this incident pushed him over the edge. In an instant, he was right up in Caroline's face.

"_Damn it Caroline!_" Damon shouted, "_What the hell_ are you sneaking around for? We could have _killed_ you!"

"I heard someone coming! I was afraid it was Stefan! I don't want to get _ripped!_" Caroline shouted with disgust.

Jeremy laughed. "Who told you about that?"

"Nobody," Caroline replied, "my mom found those bodies and I just put two and two together. I mean _who wouldn't_ have predicted that _Saint Stefan_ would eventually _flip out_ and go on a _major killing spree_, right?"

Nobody moved or said anything.

"Just kidding!" Caroline giggled, "Actually, Elena called me earlier."

"That's right; I did," Elena confessed. With all of today's action, she had forgotten all about it.

Damon still wasn't done venting his aggressions. "You're _very chipper_ for someone who nearly got _skewered_ six ways from Sunday!" Damon would never admit it, but the perky little blond vamp had grown on him. After Caroline became a vampire, the boarding house had become her second home. And many times, the Salvatore brothers seemed more like a real family to her than her own mother. "What are you even _doing here_ if you already know Stefan's a psycho killer?"

"I was looking for my iPod! I can't find it _anywhere!_" Caroline whined. "I knew there was a risk... but I didn't want to be without tunes, either!"

"Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me!" Damon shouted.

"Hey don't get pissed at me," Caroline shot back, "if you're so paranoid, why don't you lock your doors?"

Damon lifted his crossbow. "Because I _like_ to encourage intruders!"

Alaric laughed. This was all too ridiculous, he thought.

Damon was totally exasperated._"I need a drink! _...of the alcoholic variety."

"You know," Caroline announced, "since this whole Stefan thing came up, I just can't get that _Don't Fear the Ripper_ song out of my head."

"I think you mean _Don't Fear the Reaper_, Caroline," Alaric suggested, "the Blue Oyster Cult classic."

Caroline squinted. "No, I really _don't_ think that's the one."

Jeremy rolled his eyes.

"So what are _you guys_ up to with all those weapons?" asked Caroline.

"We're gonna kill Stefan," Jeremy said plainly.

Elena scoffed. "We're _not_ going to kill him."

"I can explain..." Damon said.

"Please...?" Caroline prompted.

"In a nutshell..." Damon continued, "we're gonna kill Stefan."

"Uh, we're _not_ going to kill him," Elena said firmly, and she flashed Damon _the look._

"Okay, everyone who's _pro-kill_, raise your hand," Damon announced, while raising his hand.

_"Damon!" _Elena was furious. Of course, she knew he was joking around, but it still ticked her off. He was doing it on purpose. He was pushing her buttons again.

Caroline grinned. "Elena, you're pretty quick to defend _the ripper!_"

Elena became defensive. "Caroline, do you even _know_ what a _ripper_ is?"

"Sure I do..." Caroline said proudly. "It's a vampire who finds out that his human girlfriend fell _madly in love_ with his older vampire brother, and that they're having _crazy hot vamp-sex_ together... so then he_ totally flips out_ and starts ripping people limb from limb, out on the streets! In other words, _Stefan!_ Am I right?"

"Sounds reasonable," Damon sighed, "but there's _so much more_ to the story than that. Let me a get a drink. I'll explain everything."

* * *

Caroline, Alaric, Elena, and Jeremy all gathered by the fireplace while Damon poured himself some bourbon. He was _long_ overdue for some liquor, as he had been restricting his intake all day, in order to keep his senses sharp.

Damon figured that now would be a good opportunity to explain more about Stefan's dark side. It gave him no pleasure to dish the dirt on Stefan, but he knew tonight's speech was necessary. So he just rolled up his sleeves, picked up his glass of bourbon, took a big gulp, and with glass in hand, started to pace back and forth in front of his audience. School was in session, and "Doctor Damon" was about to give a lecture.

"You have to realize," Damon started, "The Stefan that all of you know... the nice, friendly, watered down bunny blood vampire, is only one side of the coin. There is a much darker side. Stefan has always had this internal conflict, but he hides it very well. Most of the time he greatly overcompensates for all of his flaws. You know the old saying, 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions?' That just about sums up Stefan's existence."

Damon took another gulp of bourbon.

"I mean, Stefan and I are both vampires..." Damon continued. "We've _both_ got our demons. The main difference is that Stefan bottles his up inside, while I tend to release them through destructive acts such as snapping necks, or _heavy_ consumption of alcohol." He waved his glass in the air.

Jeremy nodded. "I still don't understand how Stefan switches over from _saint_ to _ripper_."

"We'll get to that," Damon said.

"Hey Jeremy," Alaric jumped in, "did you ever find any mention of 'rippers' in Jonathan Gilbert's journal?"

It was a great question. Damon was curious to hear the answer as well.

Jeremy sat forward. "Uh, yeah, actually... based on what he wrote, a ripper is sort of like a feral vampire. They tend to be really violent, not too stealthy. They tear people up in gruesome ways."

Damon was not at all impressed. "That's a _major_ oversimplification," he said smugly, as he set his glass down. Damon went to the fireplace, bent on one knee, picked up a poker, and fiddled with the remaining burning embers. He still had some internal debate about telling this story, and just _how much_ of it to tell.

"It really all starts with Katherine," Damon began. "Stefan and I had no idea she was a vampire at the time we both fell in love with her. When she revealed her true nature to me, I was shocked, but it didn't change my feelings at all. I loved her unconditionally. I was willing to go anywhere with her, for eternity..."

Damon stood up and returned to his bourbon.

"But Stefan and Katherine were _a whole different story_," Damon said. "When she showed Stefan her true self, Stefan panicked. He saw a monster, and he was afraid. As far as I know, she had to compel him to keep calm. I think Stefan still loved her, but he was tied between his love and his loyalty to our father, who wanted to kill every vampire out there. To make a long story short, our father used Stefan to trap Katherine, which resulted in Stefan and I both getting killed... but we came back, thanks to Katherine's blood."

Damon took a sip of bourbon. "_Just imagine_ discovering that the love of your life is really a monster, and you can't handle the reality of it... and by some strange twist of fate you end up losing your life... you end up turned into the very monster you feared, while at the same time your lover, and your maker, is lost forever... you can begin to see the tragedy that Stefan has always been burdened with. Fortunately for me, I adjusted to my new lifestyle reasonably quickly."

Caroline nodded.

"So, a little Vampire 101 refresher course: a vampire, by nature, is a predator," Damon said. "We're at the _very top_ of the food chain. We feed on human blood... but, we don't always have to _kill_ to get it. That's where humanity and common sense come in."

Alaric nodded.

Damon thought for a minute and continued. "See... when you first become a vampire, you have a short window of time to adapt. You need to find a balance between your predatory instincts and your humanity... that balance is the most important key to your survival, _and your sanity_. Too humane, and you're _too feeble_ to make it. Too predatory, and you _go crazy_ with blood lust, and probably end up hunted and staked by some Van Helsing wannabe."

Jeremy nodded. "That's very interesting."

"Now, we get back to Stefan," Damon started again. "It's like he never found his balance. When Stefan first became a vampire, he loved it. He loved the feeling of power, and the enhanced senses. He was a great hunter. He loved the hunt. He _lived for it_. He was vicious. He was a ruthless killer. But then he started to fight his own animal instincts, and deny his true nature."

The group was hanging on Damon's every word.

"We've never really discussed _why_ he made the choices he did. I suppose he wanted to be human again, or some _utterly ridiculous _nonsense like that. So he just _pretended_ to be human. He deprived himself of the human blood that happy, healthy vampires, such as myself, require. But _he couldn't even see_ that he was doing himself more harm than good. He was in _complete denial!_"

Damon went to pour himself another drink.

"And when all of Stefan's denial and repression _finally_ caught up with him," Damon went on, "he would _explode_. He would snap... and then he would _rip_. He'd try to fight off the urges, but it's like he'd just be completely driven _insane with blood lust_. He'd go out and kill, sometimes not even to feed, but just to be _vicious_... just for the _thrill_ of the hunt. _Just for the pleasure_ of seeing his victims squirm in agony, as he tore them apart."

"So basically," Caroline said, "what you're telling us is that Stefan is one _sick_ motherfu-"

"Thank you, Caroline," Alaric cut in. "I think we all get the point."

Elena just sat on her hands.

"And to think, you guys all thought _I was the unstable one_ of the bunch!" Caroline joked.

Jeremy was amazed. "Wow... this is _epic_."

Caroline frowned. "You say that about _everything_, Jeremy."

"Let's not get into a whole debate about what's epic or not," Alaric said. His scholarly interest was piqued, and he wanted to hear some more. "Damon, please continue."

"Thanks Ric," Damon took another gulp of bourbon and went on, "I want to bring up another important point about Stefan. You have to realize that as a vampire, Stefan has spent his whole existence _in denial._ He was never honest with himself, or anyone else, as to what was really going on. He seemed to always be either _fighting against_ his instincts, or being _totally driven by them_.Sometimes he would just bounce back and forth between those two extremes. On one side, he's the boring, brooding, self-loathing, Saint Stefan. On the other side, he's Stefan the Ripper, who is _totally sadistic and violent_."

"So you mean to say that Stefan's basically been doing the whole Jekyll and Hyde thing?" Alaric asked. "I never would have imagined it like that."

"That's what makes him so dangerous," Damon warned, looking directly at Elena as he said it. He really wanted to drive that point home. He was concerned that Elena still had doubts, and that she underestimated how dangerous _the other Stefan_ could be; the one she hadn't seen.

"So he'd be normal, then flip out, go kill, come back, and then he was normal again?" Caroline asked.

Damon paused. "Not exactly," he continued, "Stefan always had his periods of normalcy, living the dull _Saint Stefan_ lifestyle. He could go for days, weeks, months, sometimes even years like that, without ever having an episode. But whatever he repressed would _always_ come back to bite him in the ass, sooner or later. Something would set him off and then he'd just snap. Sometimes he'd just have a short episode for a few days and struggle with it, then he'd get it out of his system, and he was saintly again. But other times he just went on ripping for weeks at a time. The more he ripped, the harder it was for him to find his way back to humanity. But then when he finally got back to humanity, he'd just _overcompensate so much_, and _repress_ so much by living the Saint Stefan lifestyle, that the cycle would just start all over again!"

Jeremy just shook his head in awe. "Wow... **epic.**"

Caroline rolled her eyes.

"Just remember: Stefan always _looks like_ he's cool and under control," Damon concluded. He looked at Elena again. "But if you _buy in _to his fake persona... if you _really believe_ that he won't rip again... you're a fool."

* * *

"So that about wraps it up," Damon said, "any questions?" he asked.

Everyone in the room was floored by Damon's speech. He laid it all out so eloquently. Now, they had a much better understanding of what they were dealing with. But they still didn't know _how_ to deal with it, exactly.

"I'm just wondering," Alaric said, "Are there any triggers you've recognized? I mean, _something_ must cause him to snap, and _something_ must help bring him back, right?"

It was an excellent question.

"That's the very thing I've been trying to figure out for the past century and a half," Damon confessed. "All I know for sure is that he still hasn't gotten a real handle on drinking human blood. Once he gets a taste, he's on the downward spiral."

Everyone was quiet.

"So, if there are no other questions," Damon offered, "let's call it a night." It was already long past dark and everyone was exhausted from all of the day's action.

_Call it a night._ Elena thought she would _never_ hear the words. It was such an overwhelming day. She just couldn't wait to get it over with. But it wasn't over yet.

Caroline stood up. "I'd better get home and check on my mom." She walked to the door. "Goodnight all... _don't fear the ripper!_"

"Elena; Jeremy..." Damon said, "I discussed this with Ric earlier, and he's agreed to let you two stay at his place for however long this crisis lasts. There's _no way_ you should go back home tonight, or any other night while Stefan is on the loose. Fortunately, Alaric has never invited _any_ vampires into his house; not even me. So it's a completely safe zone."

Elena was gobsmacked by what Damon just said. She just _couldn't_ believe it. She politely asked Damon for a word in private, and then she led him down the hall so that they could talk without the others overhearing.

"What do you think you're _doing?__!__" _Elena demanded. "Sending me to _Alaric's?_"

"You can't go home, Elena, it's not safe," Damon responded bluntly.

Elena became infuriated. Damon's words frustrated her to no end. _He knew that wasn't what I meant_, she thought to herself. She could barely contain her composure. She wanted to yell at him, but she restrained her voice.

"_You know_ I'm not talking about going home!" Elena half-shouted, "I'm talking about _me_ living out this _horrible unending nightmare_ of a day, and the _only_ thing that kept me sane and helped me get through it was imagining the next time I could be _with you_, if only for a few minutes... and now you're just _shipping me off_ to some damn safe-house? And for _who knows_ how long?"

Their eye contact was fierce and unyielding. Damon leaned forward and braced himself with a hand against the wall behind Elena. It was one of those things he did. It was an invasion of her personal space. It was intimidating. He always did things like that when he got into an argument with Elena.

"Look, I'm _so sorry_ that my brother happens to be a maniac killer, Elena," Damon said, "but we can't just kick back and relax while _psycho Stefan_ is out on the prowl. He could show up anywhere at any time. Wake up Elena! Your best friends are all _vampires_. There's no turning back now. Life's gonna be _one bitch_ of a roller coaster ride from here on out, so you'd better just learn to hang on and deal with it."

Elena just stared him down.

"You can't go home," Damon repeated coldly, "and you can't stay here."

"_Why not?_" Her voice was full of venom.

"You know exactly why. You're not safe here, Elena."

"Why, because of _Stefan? _Because of a _possible _threat that might not even exist?"

Damon had stayed reasonably cool up to this point. But now, Elena's words set him off.

"_Possible threat?_ Are you _kidding me?_" Damon threw her words back in spite. "Why do you keep _defending_ him, Elena? Did you _even bother to listen_ to anything I just said in there? You really think that _you_ know Stefan _better than I do?_ You think I'm _wrong_ about Stefan being psychotic? Don't you even _trust_ me?"

"Of course I do," Elena assured him. "I trust you _with my life_, Damon. You know that. It's not a matter of trust at all. I'm just saying we still don't have any concrete _proof_ that Stefan _actually_ killed those two girls. And we don't have any _proof_ that he's really snapped and is running around out there _ripping_. For all we know this could just be some terrible, freaky coincidence."

Damon couldn't believe she was being so difficult at a time like this. His face was just inches from Elena's. He surely wasn't about to back down from this debate. He still had an ace up his sleeve.

"You're being _incredibly naive_," Damon shot back intensely. "Okay... you want_ proof?_" he fumed, "Alright, here it is: some blond chick has a date with _Saint Stefan the Ripper_ tonight, and she's going to end up _shredded like confetti_ within the next twenty-four hours. So when you hear the news, you'll have your _proof!_"

Elena was confused. "How can you know that?"

"Because the bartender at the grill _saw Stefan_ leave with some blond, and then I had to _compel_ the guy to forget it in order to keep things under wraps! Just to remind you, if the cops or some _vampire-slaying jackasses_ get on Stefan's trail, that path also leads _straight to me!_"

Elena and Damon had shared _many_ similarly heated exchanges in the past, back when they were just friends. Back then, Elena always managed to restrain herself. But this time the situation was a bit different. She found it all so infuriating, and yet strangely exciting. Her _Petrova fire_ was burning bright, and Damon just kept right on stoking those flames relentlessly, until she finally just couldn't take it anymore. With a burst of strength, Elena pushed Damon about as hard as any seventeen year old girl could hope to push a strong male vampire, and she threw herself on him. And in an instant, they were caught up in a bout of passionate kissing. It was neither _sweet_, serene, nor reassuring. This was a hot, wet, fire-breathing, animalistic, borderline obscene, whirlwind of a make-out session. If you saw people doing this sort of thing in public, you would turn around and _run for your life_, Elena thought to herself. And seemingly for the first time, _Elena_ was the instigator, and the aggressor. And she loved every minute of it.

After they both caught their breath, and finally cooled down, Elena thought she'd give it one last try. "I don't want to leave you," she said tenderly. "I'll be safe here... I have _you_."

Damon's reply came with a touch of despair. "Not good enough."

Elena recognized the double-meaning of that statement, and it saddened her. She turned to leave, but Damon caught her by the arm and pulled her back. Then he just looked her in the eyes and calmly told her what she needed to hear most of all.

"Elena..." he said, "You need to _stop_ thinking with your heart. It will only get you killed."

Then he let go of her arm, and watched her walk away.

Of all the hard truths that Damon ever told Elena, this one was the most painful to say.

Because he knew _her heart_ was what made her so special. It's what made her _Elena_.


	6. After Hours

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 6: AFTER HOURS**

* * *

"Today has been a no good, _very bad_ day," Damon muttered as he poured himself yet another bourbon. It was half past midnight and he was all alone in the boarding house once again. "Mission failed... Elena left upset... Stefan's still out there... Caroline lost her iPod..." he thought while he sat, drank, and puzzled over the day's events. Damon knew he had to get inside Stefan's head and try to figure out his next move, the same way detectives sometimes do to catch serial killers. But how? How could he predict something so chaotic and random? Or would a pattern emerge; a method to the madness?

All types of questions ran through Damon's mind. Why did Stefan risk picking up a potential victim at Mystic Grill, where people might recognize him? Was he getting sloppy already? Or maybe he _wanted us_ to catch on? What about the message he gave to Liz; what was the point of that? Where was he hiding out? What was he doing in the meantime? What about those two girls, did they have any particular significance? Why them? Were they just random victims, or were they chosen for some reason or another? So many questions and still no answers, he thought. "Thinking and drinking," he thought to himself. That's what he would do tonight.

* * *

Meanwhile, back at Alaric's place, Alaric, Elena, and Jeremy sat around the kitchen table having a late night snack of waffles and ice cream, while making idle chat about school and Alaric's history class. They all tried very hard to avoid talking about vampire related subjects, and although the talk was a pleasant distraction for the three of them, Elena still couldn't help but sense something foreboding around the corner, as if this moment was just the calm before the storm.

Alaric was an exceptionally polite and gracious host, but his accomodations were rather spartan. Just by looking around the house, you could certainly tell that Alaric was an unmarried male teacher. There were stacks of books and papers in _every_ room, piled up in corners, and even in odd places like right there on the kitchen table. Aside from the constant sight of books and papers, there were many cardboard boxes filled with his trademark homemade vampire-slaying weapons.

After the meal, Alaric said goodnight and retired to his bedroom while Elena and Jeremy got settled into the two sofas in the living room. Jeremy put on his headphones and listened to a little music before falling asleep, but Elena couldn't find peace so easily. Her body was tired, but her mind was far too active.

Elena tossed and turned on that sofa for nearly an hour. Even though Jeremy was a mere fifteen feet away from her, she somehow felt strangely alone. She had become accustomed to the Salvatores appearing in her room at odd times. She would hate it if those days were gone. She wondered if Stefan would be able to get it together, or if he really was going off the deep end. She couldn't bear the thought of losing either one of the brothers. She never wanted to be an object of jealousy between them, like Katherine had been. Elena certainly had enough room in her heart for the both of them. It seemed so simple; so how did things get so complicated?

Elena laid there beside the large bay window which allowed moonlight to flood in and brighten much of the otherwise dark room. She mentally replayed all the events of the day. From the moment she learned that Stefan was on a killing spree, the whole day had been a roller coaster ride. _One bitch of a roller coaster ride,_ just like Damon said..._ Damon._ The freshest topic on Elena's mind was their heated argument and the unbridled passion that followed. She still couldn't figure out _why_ things happened the way they did. She really had _no idea_. She never did anything like that with Stefan. But Damon got her all fired up and she felt almost driven to the brink of insanity. It made her feel unpredictable and uninhibited, and that was _scary_, she thought. After all, she had always prided herself on excellent self control. But all of that seemed to go right out the window whenever Damon engaged her. He was all so infuriating, intoxicating, and... _incredibly addictive_. Pulling herself free from his embrace was like trying to separate two very strong magnets that had become stuck together. It took an incredible feat of willpower to do it. Elena thought that if she hadn't managed to break free, they might_ still be there_ in that hallway. But once she had cooled down from the argument and thought it all through, she realized that Damon was absolutely right. Alaric's house was the smartest place for her and Jeremy to be right now. It was a wise choice. But it still stung. It hurt that she had to leave him, _and_ that she had to leave him there, all alone.

* * *

Elena ran her fingers through her hair, fiddled with the blankets, looked out the window and counted stars, rearranged her pillows a dozen times, flopped them around, and kicked at the cushions, trying desperately to find a more comfortable position to finally settle down and get some sleep, but it was all in vain. She eventually figured out that her restlessness wasn't because of the sofa, or because of Stefan, or because of her crazy day, or because of this eerie calm feeling. There was an itch under her skin that she just couldn't shake, and that itch was _Damon_. She had to _do something_... anything. She just couldn't stand it any more. She just had to hear his voice. So, she thought of a decent excuse to call him in the middle of the night. "He's a _vampire_, it's not like I have to worry about waking him up..." she thought, "I must be _completely_ losing my mind..." Elena fumbled around to find her phone, and made the call.

"Salvatore _boring_ house; this is Damon speaking..." He sounded slightly drunk. "How may I help you, _Elena_?"

"Damon, _how much_ have you had to drink?" Elena scolded playfully.

"Not _nearly_ enough..." Damon said, "but I'm making progress. What are you up to?"

"Laying on an uncomfortable sofa in Ric's living room, wide awake under the moonlight, totally restless, thinking of you..."

"Cool," Damon said, "so, what are you wearing?"

Elena giggled. "Do you _really_ have to ask me that _every single time_ we talk on the phone?"

"Yes, Elena," Damon teased. "I really, really do."

"What else is on your mind?" Elena asked.

"Let's see," Damon began, "my brother's a psychotic serial killer out on the prowl... we had an _idiot-proof _chance to stop him, that went bust... some blond chick's got a date with the ripper and we can't do anything about it... oh, and as the icing on the cake, I pissed you off. So you could say it's been a rough day."

"You were right though," Elena said, "About it all... I don't know why I exploded like that. I mean Alaric's is definitely _not_ my first choice of places to be... but we'll manage."

"What's it like over at Ric's, anyway?" Damon asked.

"I think there are more books here than your place," Elena joked, "but it's missing the old world charm of the chateau Salvatore. This place feels so modern and empty and... un-Damon-like... and that pretty much bites..."

"Hey, I never bit you!" Damon joked. "At least not with fangs."

"It might be fun though," Elena suggested playfully, "for both of us..." Elena caught herself. _Wow, where__ the __hell__ did that come from__?_ She was shocked at her own words that somehow managed to slip past the sentinels of her mind and escape through her mouth, without so much as a thought to stop them. She felt that wild and unpredictable side jumping out again, so she quickly changed the subject in attempt to pull herself back down to earth. "You know, I was thinking," she said, "maybe I should try to call Stefan. If I could get him to agree to a meeting, we could set a trap."

"Didn't he stop taking your calls a few days ago?" Damon asked. "He's not answering mine."

"I know, but I'll keep trying. I'm sure he'll want to talk, eventually," she said. "All I know is the longer we wait, the more innocent people are going to die. I can't have that on my conscience."

Damon picked up on her misguided sense of guilt. "It's not your fault, Elena."

"Isn't it though?" Elena asked despairingly. "It's _because of me_ that he's out there killing people."

"You're not responsible for Stefan being psychotic," Damon reminded her.

"Maybe not, but I can't help but think that if we hadn't told him about us, none of this would have happened, and he'd be fine." Elena bit her lip.

"But he wouldn't be fine, Elena," Damon countered. "Stefan has struggled with this problem for longer than you've been alive. And he was already aware of what's been going on between us; it's not like we could ever hide it."

Elena was near tears. "I just don't want to cause another rift between you and Stefan, like Katherine did. I just couldn't live with myself." The situation she feared the most seemed to be unfolding before her very eyes.

Damon sighed. As much as he wanted to disagree, he couldn't help but notice history repeating itself. But even still, he managed to be a voice of reason. "Elena, you're _not_ Katherine. That's what will make all the difference in the end. _I know it__._ Stefan does, too."

There was a brief silence. Elena absorbed what had just been said. She hoped with every fiber of her being that Damon was right. Otherwise, she knew what would have to happen. But she couldn't live that way, either. She just couldn't. Not now. Not after everything they'd been through together.

"So, what's up for tomorrow?" Elena finally broke the silence.

Damon didn't answer.

"Can you hear me?" Elena tried again.

No response.

"Damon," she repeated, "are you there?"

There was only silence. The phone disconnected. It was so odd. It wasn't like Damon to abruptly drop out of a conversation like that. Maybe with someone else, but _never_ with Elena. Why would he do that? Elena tried calling back but it just went straight to voice mail. "Maybe his battery went out... something like that," she thought. Elena tried to reassure herself, but it didn't last. Three minutes went by. Six minutes passed, and an uneasy feeling crept over her. Still voice mail. Eleven minutes. Still voice mail. Fifteen minutes. Repeated calls still wouldn't get through. Now she was nervous.

Elena was never the sort of person who could just sit around worried and not _do something._ So she quietly got up and got dressed, being very careful not to make any noise that might wake Jeremy. She held her car keys in hand and just stared at them for a minute, taking a brief pause to remember the warning that Damon had given her earlier in the hallway. For just a moment, Elena was caught in a battle between her heart and mind. But it didn't last long, and there really was no contest. _It wasn't even close._ Her heart won. Elena took her keys and like a ghost in the night, she silently slipped out the front door.


	7. The Good Brother

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 7: THE GOOD BROTHER**

* * *

Back at the Salvatore boarding house, Damon had to drop his call with Elena and shut off his phone. He did it because he heard someone at the front door. And he was pretty sure he knew what that meant.

"Hello, brother," Stefan said as he entered the house. A few fresh snowflakes clung to his leather jacket.

Damon never flinched. He just sat and took another gulp of bourbon. "You've got nerve, coming here tonight..."

Stefan walked into the foyer and looked around. "Why? This is _my_ home as much as it is yours, Damon."

"Come back for your hockey mask?" Damon asked sarcastically.

Damon stood up. He knew _exactly_ what Stefan had come for. The brothers faced each other but kept their distance. They just stared each other down for a minute. It was sort of like two begrudged nobles who were about to do the whole _pistols at dawn_ type of showdown. They were trying to size each other up, figure each other out. They each mentally prepared for the duel, arming themselves with their usual weapons of choice: _words_. They did this routine so many times in the past century and a half that it had become tradition. The classic Salvatore brothers' verbal sparring match was about to begin.

"We were worried about you last night," Damon said. "Where did you run off to?"

Stefan nodded. "By 'we,' I suppose that means _you and Elena_. In bed. Together."

Damon raised his eyebrows. "Problem?"

"No problem..." Stefan said stoically. "I'm cool. Totally cool."

Damon tried to read his brother's body language. Stefan _looked_ normal, for the most part, but there was some intangible quality that seemed _slightly_ off.

"So, what have you been up to, say... in the past twenty-four hours or so?" Damon prodded.

Stefan shrugged. "Just taking a little personal time," he said. "Where's Elena?"

"Hey!" Damon shouted. "Why don't we break out the tinsel and eggnog and share in a little holiday spirit? You know, 'deck the halls' and all that crap?"

"I'm not kidding, Damon. Where is she?" Stefan prodded.

"If she really wanted you to know, _you'd know_," Damon said. "Wouldn't you?"

Stefan shrugged. "I just figured she'd be here with you, and she's obviously not. Seems a bit strange for such _intense lovers_ to suddenly be apart... things on the rocks already?"

Damon just took another gulp of bourbon. "Why don't you leave a forwarding address, and I'll make sure she gets it."

"That won't be necessary," Stefan said. "I'm actually enjoying the time out on my own."

"I'll bet," Damon teased. "Meet any nice girls lately? Say, at the grill? Blond? Today? Three-ish?" Damon pushed hard to try to get some reaction out of him.

Stefan laughed. "What's it to you? I'm as free as bird. You made that happen, so _thank you very much_, brother."

Damon set his glass down. He wished he still had one of Alaric's vervain darts in his pocket, but he didn't. Still, he wondered if he might be able to catch Stefan off guard and keep him down. There seemed to be no lapse in Stefan's attention, but Damon decided to make a move anyway. He charged at Stefan, but Stefan dodged and fled to the opposite end of the room. They stared each other down. Damon quickly charged again, but Stefan just dodged once more. He was too quick.

"Very brave of you to come here..." Damon said as he made a grab for a poker by the fireplace. Stefan charged and they struggled over the weapon, which resulted in Stefan getting thrown to the floor. Damon quickly took a stab at Stefan, who managed to roll out of the way and kick the poker away. Damon dove and clutched at Stefan's throat, but Stefan was strong enough roll over and throw him off. The brothers stood up and caught their breath. It was clear to Damon that a purely physical strategy wouldn't work. Stefan was too alert, too quick, and too strong right now. And after the failed attacks, he would be even more on edge.

"Are you done?" Stefan asked.

Damon went back to his glass of bourbon and took a drink. "Your reflexes are quick. Looks like you have a little more _pep _in your step... you back on the human stuff?"

Stefan remained straight-faced. "No."

Damon wasn't buying it. "Wrong answer."

Stefan shrugged. "Believe what you want, Damon. I'm totally clean."

Damon shook his head and laughed. "You're such a _liar!_"

Stefan didn't flinch. "We both know there's _only one_ liar among us, Damon."

"Ain't that the truth." Damon sighed, and took a drink.

"Did you get my message?" Stefan asked.

Damon nodded. "Oh yeah, but I'm not really into the whole cryptic serial killer message scene. So why don't you just come right out and say what you mean."

Stefan suddenly turned aggressive. "You know _exactly_ what it means!"

"Oh, spare me the _drama!_" Damon whined.

In a flash, Stefan stood right in Damon's face. "This is Katherine all over again."

Damon tilted his head. "Elena is _not_ Katherine. Come on, Stef, you've said it yourself."

"Well, maybe I spoke too soon," Stefan shot back.

Damon was surprised by the harshness of his response. "Ooh! That's _cold_..."

Stefan stepped back and paced the room. "Just enjoy your time with her, while it lasts. You can expect it to be _very_ short lived."

Damon thought that was an odd thing for him to say.

Stefan started marching around the room. "_Every time_ I've let you back into my life you've made me regret it," he rambled on, throwing his arms up in the air, "and here we are _once again._"

"Because I know all about your extra-curricular activities?" Damon mocked.

"It was you!" Stefan shouted, pointing his finger. "_You_ turned her against me."

"That's absurd and you know it," Damon said. "Elena can make her own choices."

Stefan scoffed. "Oh, and you sure _enjoy that_, don't you, Damon? Because you've already put the poison in. You_ manipulated her_ to turn against me."

Damon held his ground. "You're _completely_ delusional. Elena has never _turned against_ you, or anyone else. You're the one who flipped out."

"Oh, so now I flipped out?" Stefan mocked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're ripping again." Damon laid it out as clear as day.

Stefan just laughed and smiled. "You're crazy."

"Really? Well, let's make a bet then," Damon offered. "You stay here tonight, locked up in the basement. And if no one gets _ripped_ in the next twenty four hours, you're free to go. How 'bout it, Stef?"

Stefan scoffed. "There's _no way_ I'm agreeing to that, Damon."

"I rest my case,_ ripper._" Damon took another drink.

Stefan laughed. "You've got _absolutely no proof_ of any of this nonsense. I'm not going to let you lock me up over some silly ghost story about rippers."

"You're up to the same old tricks as before," Damon said assuredly.

"Damon, just give it up! You sound ridiculous." Stefan stepped up into Damon's face and his tone became serious. "That's all history. We both know I don't have that problem anymore."

"No, you just can't _admit_ that you have that problem," Damon shot back. "In other words, you're ripping again, _and_ you're in denial. How typical!"

Stefan laughed and put his hand on Damon's shoulder. "_Ripping?_ That just sounds so much more_ Damon_ than it does me, don't you think? I'm _the good brother_, remember? I'll _always_ be the good brother. You just _can't stand_ that, can you?"

Damon held his ground. "You're ripping again. I _know_ it."

Stefan shrugged. "Well then what else can I say, Damon? You're insane!"

"Hey, I had to cover for your ass today!" Damon shouted. "Keep it up, and you're gonna get us _both_ killed."

"Come on, Damon. You only cover for yourself. Besides, we _both_ know that I have everything _completely_ under control."

"Oh really, since when?" Damon demanded.

"Since Elena!"

Well, that much was true, Damon thought as he took a gulp of bourbon. Aside from one close call at the Miss Mystic Falls pageant, Stefan hadn't gone through a bad episode with Elena in the picture.

"And now that Elena's not keeping you warm at night..." Damon continued, "I guess old habits die hard, huh?"

Stefan just shook his head. "No, Damon. You keep trying to swap our roles. You really _can't stand it_ that I was always the good son. And I'll always be the good brother; the one Elena deserves. _You just hate that_, don't you?"

"How about those two girls last night?" Damon pressed on aggressively. "Did _the good brother_ show them _a ripping good time?_ Did _the good brother_ enjoy making them squirm in agony while they bled to death?"

"Oh, I get it," Stefan said, nodding. "It makes perfect sense now. You're using all these fairy tales about rippers to keep Elena in your corner, and scare her away from me. Well, it's not going to work."

"Now this is an interesting psychological twist," Damon said. "Isn't that basically what you did to keep her away from me?"

Stefan became aggressive again. "_I was protecting her! _Protecting her _from you!_ I'm the good brother! I'm the one she deserves."

"Okay _good brother_," Damon groaned. "Why don't we both go downstairs, and I'll lock you up, and we can resume this _incredibly lame_ discussion sometime next year?"

"Oh, so you're suddenly doing the whole _brotherly concern_ thing now?" Stefan mocked. "Problem is, it's just not believable coming from you, Damon."

Damon was just about fed up with this conversation. "How about a drink then?" he asked, and went to pour himself yet another bourbon. Stefan didn't answer. By the time Damon poured his drink and looked up, the front door was open, and Stefan had vanished.

"Perfect... _just perfect_," Damon muttered. Another failed attempt. He just stood there for a few minutes, reviewing everything that just happened. Of course Stefan admitted nothing, but that was to be expected. Stefan's overall attitude and demeanor seemed to indicate that at the very least, he was indulging in human blood, and Damon knew that could only lead to bigger problems. He left his drink and went to close the door, but just as he was about to shut it, Elena appeared on the doorstep. Damon was already a simmering pot full of emotions, but at this moment it was his fuming anger about her foolishness that prevailed over all other responses.

"Elena!" He took her by the arm, pulled her inside the house, and slammed the door shut. "_What the hell_ are you doing? It's so _incredibly stupid_ of you to come back here tonight! Are you_ completely insane_? Do you realize that _Stefan was just here?_ Do you have a _death wish_ or something?"

Elena said nothing. She was frozen.

"What part of 'stay at Ric's' _don't_ you understand?"

Elena just stood there. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. Her eyes were lost and dreamy. She didn't say anything. He wondered if she was even listening.

"Elena? _Are you losing your fucking mind?_"

"I think..." Elena said, "maybe I am."

And just as Damon was about to launch into the next segment of the tirade, Elena lunged forward, silencing him with a kiss. She lit the match, and all bets were off. To call it a fevered make-out session would just be _too damned polite._ It was a natural continuation of what happened earlier in the hallway, all of their postponed desires finally unleashed in relentless passion. But this time there were no interludes, no excuses, and no means of walking away. It wasn't long before clothes started to fly, and it was all totally spontaneous and unexpected _for both of them._

"Damon..." Elena said between kisses, "maybe you really should lock the doors tonight."

* * *

"Man, Damon is _completely_ out of line," Stefan muttered to himself as he drove around the streets of Mystic Falls. He was really fed up with Damon's arrogance and mind games. "First he manages to pry Elena away from me, and now he accuses me of being a ripper? And he wants to lock me up in the basement? Will it ever end? Unbelievable..." Stefan muttered.

After his tense encounter with Damon, Stefan wanted something to take the edge off. He just drove around for a while, enjoying the feel of the cold night air pouring in through the half-open car windows. Light snow was falling, covering the dark streets in a layer of bright white, while _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_ played on Stefan's car radio. "No chance for that _this year_," he muttered. Stefan just felt the need to get away. He wanted to get away from the boarding house and Damon and Elena and everything in his life that had been causing him grief. So he just around drove for a while, and decided to stop at the liquor store to pick up something that might help ease his mind.

Stefan pulled up to the liquor store and parked the car. He strolled in to the store, picked out a bottle of J&B whiskey, and brought it to the middle aged, grizzled cashier.

"Gonna need to see some I.D., chief," the cashier said.

"You've already seen everything you need," Stefan compelled.

"Thanks chief," the cashier said, and rang up the sale.

Stefan slapped some cash on the counter, and headed out the door. "Keep the change."

Back in the parking lot, Stefan took the bottle and tossed it through the open window onto the passenger seat of his car. He just stood in the parking lot for a few minutes, while fluffy snowflakes fell on the streets which were always deserted this late at night. Stefan just enjoyed the sight of the empty town for a while and thought about where to go. Then he decided to get back in the car and drive some more.

Stefan figured out where he wanted to go. The woods by the cemetery often served as his refuge from the problems of the world. It was just a little place he ran off to when he wanted to be alone and collect his thoughts, or to feed. The woods were well populated with small animals like rabbits, opossum, and squirrels. Sometimes wild turkeys would pass through, or young deer would come out at night to drink from the small stream that ran by the edge of the cemetery. Stefan felt his hunger pangs kicking in and he knew the alcohol could only stave them off temporarily before he would need some blood.

Stefan took a slow and leisurely cemetery drive, the cold air streaming in his face as he passed by the rows of gravestones and memorials. He drove through the valley where the mausoleum of Honoria Fell stood, and up the hill that offered a scenic vista of Mystic Falls. He parked his car on the hill, close to the woods, and just sat there for a while. He drank his whiskey and enjoyed the night air, the sound of crickets chirping, and the view of the dark, quiet, and motionless town. He stayed there for about an hour before the ache in his stomach returned. He knew he couldn't ignore his needs any longer, so he decided it was time to go for a hunt.

Stefan stepped out of the car, closed the door, looked around, and took a few last gulps of whiskey, before tossing the bottle back in through the car window. He knew there was just one more thing he needed to do, so he walked around to the trunk of his car, and opened the snow-covered lid. Inside the trunk laid the blond girl he met at Mystic Grill earlier in the day. She was curled up, dirty from the interior of the trunk, and shaking from the cold, but she made no sound, showed no fear, nor did she make any attempt to get away. Stefan gently pulled the girl out and made her stand up, and he closed the trunk lid. She just stood there silently while snow fell and melted on her face and hair. Stefan ran his fingers through her hair and caressed her face gently. The very act of touching her smooth skin caused Stefan to salivate, which surprised him, and he jerked his hand back. Then he started to march away from the girl, but he eventually returned, and in a huff, he started circling around her. After about five minutes of this bizarre ritual, he couldn't take it any more. He stood face to face with the girl.

"Why don't you fear me?" Stefan asked.

"You told me not to," she replied.

Stefan shook his head and began to rub his hands together nervously.

"I'm so sorry," Stefan sighed.

Stefan paced around nervously. The pain in his stomach had spread to his veins, which now felt like they were filled with sand. His chest felt tight, it was difficult to breathe, and his head was pounding. He rubbed at his eyes and pulled at his own hair. Then he went back over to the girl.

"Do you know what I am?" he asked.

"You're a man," she said.

Stefan shook his head and stared at her coldly. "I'm your death. Do you understand?"

"No," she admitted.

Stefan rubbed at his own face nervously, ran his hands through his hair, and kicked up snow in frustration. The pain all over his body was driving him insane. "You're supposed to be afraid of me," he muttered. Then he came back to the girl and looked her in the eyes.

"Listen to me," Stefan compelled, "I want you to get scared. I want you to fear me with every fiber of your being. I want you to run into those woods over there and _don't ever stop_ until you get to some place safe, and as far away from me as possible. If you ever see me again, you _run like hell_. You'd better pray that you don't see me again. _Do you understand?_"

She nodded.

"Go!" Stefan yelled.

The girl immediately sprinted away and disappeared into darkness, the sound of leaves crunching and twigs snapping underfoot as she ran in mortal fear through the woods. Stefan breathed a sigh of relief, and stood there to collect his composure for a good ten minutes. The pain had spread to his lungs, which now felt like they were on fire, and his breathing was labored. He grappled with his jacket, stripped it off, and threw it into the car. He kicked the car door in anger and frustration, and fell to his knees in pain, clawing at the powdery snow-covered pavement.

And then, after several deep breaths and a final exhale, Stefan ran. In an instant, his speed had far exceeded the limitations of a human being. He ran straight into the woods. It was only a matter of minutes before he hunted the girl down. Growling and snarling, he caught her, tripped her violently to the ground, and sank his teeth into her pale, tender skin repeatedly, as blood sprayed everywhere, painting their skin and clothes deep red. Stefan ripped at her skin and feasted on her blood like a wild, ravenous animal. It was a torrent of torn flesh. It was a fountain of flowing blood. It was a tempest of terror. Stefan just kept ripping into her, as the addictive, salty taste of her warm blood fueled his own sadistic pleasure. No one else was around to hear her horrific screams. Only Stefan could hear them. And the sound was like glorious music to his ears; his own personal Christmas carol in the dead of night.


	8. Dawn of the Dead

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 8: DAWN OF THE DEAD**

* * *

Elena's eyelids felt heavy during her drive back to Alaric's house. She glanced over to see 4:10 a.m. displayed on the dashboard clock. Light snow dotted the dark sky in white as Elena pulled into the driveway, parked the car, and quietly slipped into the house. Jeremy was still sleeping soundly on his sofa, and Elena quietly tiptoed through the room, passing by Alaric's aquarium of tropical fish which he had named after former U.S. presidents. She peeled off her jacket, kicked off her black canvas Converse All-Stars, and collapsed onto her makeshift "bed" of the living room sofa, completely exhausted and blissed out from her unexpected late night tryst. Elena almost tried to make herself feel guilty for it, like she didn't deserve to have any fun during such an unfortunate crisis, but it just didn't work this time. There was something about Damon that offered her the freedom to get back to her playful side which had been absent since the death of her parents. A smile crossed Elena's lips, as she was amused by the idea of sneaking in and out of the house. At least she was finally tired enough to get in a few solid hours of sleep before she had to wake up for school. _School._ She cringed at the word. With everything going on, it was hard to believe that Monday morning had crept up on her already. And with that thought, she closed her eyes and drifted off.

Later, Elena awoke to the smells of fresh-brewed coffee and toast. The morning sun was beaming through the bay window, and it was so bright in her eyes and hot against her skin that it forced her to get up, even though she was still very tired. She walked into the kitchen to find Alaric sipping coffee and reading the newspaper while Jeremy munched on toast and jam and finished some last-minute homework. Jeremy looked well-rested and ready to go. Alaric looked like he had grown a week's worth of a beard overnight. The two were surprised to see Elena looking so disheveled. Her eyes were reddish, her hair was tousled, and she had obviously slept in her clothes.

"Morning Elena," Jeremy greeted. "Didn't you get any sleep? You look like you've been wind-surfing all night!"

"Was the sofa not comfortable enough for you?" Alaric asked with honest concern.

"No, it's fine," Elena said. "I just didn't sleep very much, that's all. But I'm still... satisfied." Little did they know.

"Any news on Saint Stefan yet?" Alaric asked.

"Actually," Elena began, "turns out that he paid Damon a visit late last night, and was in total denial about everything. Damon said that Stefan seemed to be on human blood, but that's about all he could determine."

"So, what happened then?" Jeremy asked.

Elena shrugged. "Nothing, really. Stefan ran off in a flash."

"Damn..." Alaric sighed.

* * *

Elena met Jeremy by his locker just before classes were about to start. It was their usual morning routine. The hallways of Mystic Falls High School were crawling with students, so they were careful to keep their conversation low-key.

"So, what if Stefan shows up here today?" Jeremy asked. "I can handle it, but we haven't really discussed a plan."

Elena shook her head. "Please, Jeremy. I don't want you to _handle_ it," she said sternly. "I wouldn't worry about it though. He's been skipping since last Wednesday. Now that he knows we're on to him, he'll want to avoid a public confrontation."

Jeremy nodded. "Yeah, he'd have to be a real fool to show up here with you, me, Caroline, Alaric, and Bonnie around. Bonnie alone could probably drop him from a good thirty feet away."

Elena was confused. "Why, have you told Bonnie anything?"

"No, I didn't," Jeremy said. "I just figured you would have filled her in by now."

"_Don't say anything_ to her, Jer," Elena warned. "She wouldn't understand; she'd just want to kill him. Promise me."

Jeremy nodded. "Alright, you've got my word." He slammed his locker door shut. "Well, I'd better get to class. See ya later." With that, Jeremy took off down the hall and Elena headed to her own class.

* * *

Classes were underway, but there was still one student who hung around outside the building: Stefan. He looked in through the windows and stalked around the snow-covered school grounds. He knew he was being a real_ idiot_ to show up at school. He knew it was a _huge mistake_. He knew they were on alert and ready for him. But he had no choice. _He had to find her. _But how could he get her alone? That was a major problem he'd have to face, and he had a _very_ narrow margin of time to deal with it. The clock was ticking.

Stefan adjusted his leather jacket, took a deep breath, and paced the grounds some more. He was still indecisive about whether or not to risk going in the building. For sure, the risk of going in was massive; but what about the consequences of _not_ going in? That was the real question.

Of course, it didn't help Stefan's indecision that the hunger pangs were fighting back with a vengeance. But it was not only hunger commanding his attention; it was that delirious desire, the blood lust that drove him to do the things he did. And the more that Stefan fed that desire, the more it demanded of him.

Stefan made his way around the school grounds, peering into classroom windows through his sunglasses as he walked by. She had to be in there somewhere, he hoped. But his hopes faded as time wore thin. The cravings were getting the best of him, and they hit him in the stomach so hard that he keeled over onto the snow-covered grass. He groaned and clutched at his stomach.

"Hey, are you okay?" The voice startled Stefan. He looked up to discover that the speaker was a pretty redhead girl, all bundled up in a wool coat, book bag slung over one shoulder. That's when Stefan knew his decision was made. She had made it for him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Stefan groaned. "It's only a cramp. It'll pass."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Just leave me alone," Stefan said. "Please." The girl went back on her way towards the school entrance.

Stefan made a last-ditch effort to fight the pain back, but the urges were relentless, unbearable, and could no longer be ignored. His head was pounding and his mouth began to salivate. He got back on his feet, and sped his way to the school entrance. The girl jumped when Stefan suddenly stood right in front of her, blocking her path to the door. She thought it was impossible for him to have gotten to the door before she did, but there he was, and it frightened her.

"Ex-c-cuse me..." she stammered nervously.

Stefan stepped closer to the girl, took off his sunglasses, and looked her in the eyes. "I'm so sorry," he said.

"For what?" she asked.

"That you're in the wrong place at the wrong time," Stefan said. He didn't even need to compel her to run; she was so creeped out by Stefan that she suddenly dropped her book bag, turned around, and sprinted away from the building. She was so pretty, Stefan thought, it was such a shame he couldn't take more time to enjoy this. He felt his fangs extend like cats' claws. She ran across the snow-covered field, and Stefan chased her. She was far too easy, but Stefan couldn't complain. He caught up to her within seconds, grabbed her by the hair, and violently jerked her head back, exposing her neck. Stefan's first bite was quick, vicious, and precisely directed. He ripped at her throat with his teeth, purposely destroying her vocal cords to ensure that her final moments would be spent in silent horror while she bled to death. It was a skill he had mastered many decades ago, and it was extremely useful for situations like these. Stefan found her taste to be absolutely delicious. He went back for seconds, and thirds, as the dark red blood spilled from the gaping wounds in her throat, over the creamy flesh of her now limp body, over her red hair, and onto the bright white snow below. He left her there, lying in the snow, gasping, twitching, and bleeding, until she eventually went still. The imagery was almost poetic. It was a brilliant display of colors and a work of art, Stefan thought. It was all too unfortunate that he couldn't stay and appreciate it.

* * *

Elena was in fourth period physics class when the screams broke out. They were so loud that the whole school must have heard them. Students and teachers alike couldn't help but flood into the hallways to see what the emergency was about, and things quickly escalated into a riot of emotions and confusion. Faculty members worked diligently to try to keep things quiet and calm, but it was too late. Teachers attempted to console the students who discovered the mutilated corpse. Students flooded to the doors and windows to get a better look at the grisly scene. Within minutes, Sheriff Forbes and an entourage of officers arrived.

Elena spotted Caroline and Matt in the crowd and tried to wave them down. "Caroline! Over here!" Caroline noticed, and she and Matt pushed their way to Elena.

"Caroline, what the hell is going on?" Elena asked frantically.

Caroline was in tears, and Matt was doing his best to console her. Her mascara was running from her eyes and she was all choked up. "It's Angie Argento... she's dead!" Caroline sobbed and hugged Elena.

"I'm so sorry..." Elena said. She didn't recognize the name.

Matt shook his head. "It's horrible... just tragic."

"Did you find out what happened?" Elena asked.

"I heard them talking about it," Caroline sniffed. "They found her outside. Her throat was ripped open." Elena's heart sank. She had no words.

"_Ripped_, Elena," Caroline sobbed.

Elena was aghast.

* * *

Teachers came out in force and and managed to get everyone back into their respective classrooms, but there wasn't much success in reining in the students' attention. There was much confusion and many students were in mourning, while others passed around grisly, exaggerated rumors about "what really happened." Of course, there were only a handful of students who had a good idea of "what really happened," and Elena was one of them. As soon as the bell rang, Elena hustled out of class, when she was suddenly grabbed by the arm and pulled aside. It was Damon.

"Did you see _anything?_" Damon asked quietly.

"No," Elena said. "Caroline didn't either."

Damon shook his head and hit a locker with his fist. "It's _him_, Elena. Who else?"

Elena hugged her books. "Isn't it incredibly bizarre though? I mean, why would he risk coming here, in public, knowing that we're on to him?"

Damon waved two fingers in the air. "Two possibilities," he said. "One, he did it to rub it in our faces... to show us how close he can get... to _dare us_ to catch him."

"And the other?" Elena asked.

Damon crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the lockers. "He didn't plan to kill her... he just couldn't help himself. He wouldn't risk coming here for that. He came here for some other reason... like _you._"

Elena gulped. "You think so?"

Damon nodded. "Ric found footprints circling the building. And this kill doesn't fit his usual profile. He came here for some other reason, but he couldn't resist helping himself to a little snack. Then he had to bail."

"But if he really came here for me," Elena started, "why would he just run away after the snack? Wouldn't he finish the job?"

Damon's shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe he'd rather pay you a visit _when he's hungry._" Elena's face turned pale.

"Aside from this girl," Elena said. "What about that blond from the grill? Did she turn up yet?"

Damon sighed. "No. Liz would have told me."

Damon looked around. "I know Stefan. Whether he did this or not, he's still dangerous and needs to be stopped before it gets out of hand. We're about two steps away from the Founders'Council wanting to step in, and I might not be able to prevent it."

"I know," she said. "Well, I should get to class."

"I'll be around here somewhere with Liz, doing damage control," Damon said. "We got lucky on this one. Cover story is that it's an animal attack."

"Animal attack?" Elena asked skeptically. "On school grounds? Isn't that pushing it?"

Damon smirked. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"I guess not," Elena said. "Okay, I'll check in later." She started to leave, but Damon stepped in front of her.

"One more thing," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Make sure you actually _stay_ at Ric's tonight... as in _all night_."


	9. Memento Mori

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 9: MEMENTO MORI**

* * *

Later in the afternoon, Elena found herself sitting alone at a table inside Mystic Grill. She had trouble keeping her eyes open. The nearly sleepless night left her exhausted, and figuring she could use some caffeine, Elena ordered an iced tea and french fries. She looked around the grill, tapping her fingers rhythmically against the dense wooden table. Damon had asked her to meet him there after school. Apparently, he had something important to discuss with her, though she couldn't guess what it might be.

"Thank you," Elena told the waitress, who delivered the food and drink without delay. Elena unwrapped a straw, used it to stir a packet of sugar into the tea, and took a sip. She gazed around the dimly lit grill impatiently. She looked over at the billiard tables, which reminded her of the time when Stefan kept an eye over her meeting with Isobel. Back then, Elena could have never guessed that Stefan would one day lose control and end up going out on a killing spree. It was all so sad.

Elena turned around and almost jumped out of her chair when she noticed someone sitting right next to her, quietly sipping from her iced tea.

"Needs lemon," Damon said plainly.

"You scared the _hell_ out of me," Elena said.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Damon said. "How was the rest of school?"

Elena frowned. "Pretty much a disaster. All kinds of stories were flying around about what kind of 'animal' killed Angie."

Damon's eyes shifted upward. "Any mention of the 'V' word?"

Elena shook her head. "Not that I've heard."

"Good enough for me!" Damon was pleased. "You look tired."

Elena sighed. "Yeah. I'm just going to go back to Ric's and rest for a bit before Jeremy and I go back to school later tonight..."

Damon was puzzled. "_Whoa,_ school? Tonight?"

Elena yawned. "There's going to be a candlelight memorial for Angie."

Damon buried his face in his hands, exasperated. "Elena, how many times do we have to go down this road!"

Elena looked down apologetically. "I know, I know..."

Damon frowned. "Do you think you could possibly _sit still_ for like _thirty seconds_ while there's a _crazy killer_ on the loose who already showed us once _today_ that he just might be _out to get you_? I mean, am I really asking _too much_ here?"

"The thing is, Angie was a friend of Jeremy's..." Elena explained. "They even dated for a while, in fact. So he's kind of obligated to go. And there's _no way_ I'll let him go alone."

"_Damn it Jeremy_, why do all your girlfriends have to die untimely and tragic deaths..." Damon muttered under his breath. "Look, I'd really _advise against this_, Elena... Stefan's on the loose and it sure seems like he's _looking for you_. Let's not make it _so damn easy_ for him, you know?"

"I know..." Elena said sheepishly.

"It's incredibly stupid for you to..." Damon had a moment of clarity, and he caught himself mid-sentence. "But you _knew_ that right along, didn't you? You're doing it _on purpose__._"

Elena looked away. "Damon..."

Damon cut her off. "You're using yourself as bait! You're _trying_ to draw him out!"

"I just want this over with," Elena admitted.

Damon was agitated. "We all do! But if you keep being reckless, it might be _over with_ in the worst sense! Be careful what you wish for. You might get it."

"I'm aware of the risks, Damon," Elena said. "But this isn't what you wanted to talk about, is it?"

Damon took a breath. "No, but it brings us right to it."

Elena sipped her tea. "What then?"

Damon looked at her with a sideways glance. "Give me your hand."

Elena curiously reached out her left hand, palm up. Damon looked around the room suspiciously, then he rested his closed fist on top of her hand. "Here," he said, and he opened his fist, clasping his hand around Elena's. Elena felt something cold, hard, and tubular pressing against her palm, but she couldn't see exactly what it was since Damon hadn't let go. "Just put it in your pocket. Be discreet."

"What is it?" Elena asked quietly.

Damon shot her a serious look. "Since you insist on putting your own life in danger, consider it an insurance policy." Right then, Elena knew _exactly_ what she was holding.

"_Your blood.__.._" Elena whispered.

Damon let go of her hand. Elena peeked at the glass vial of deep red, and then she brought her hand underneath the table, in order to hide it. Anyone watching the two of them might have got the impression that a drug deal was being made. Elena looked down at her gift in awe. "Oh, Damon..."

Damon slid closer so he could speak more quietly in her ear. "Look, Stefan got really close today... _too close_. If the worst were to happen, well... this way, you'd have a second chance."

Elena closed her eyes. "It just has so much meaning. I'm at a loss for words."

"Let's _not_ make a big deal out of this, okay?" Damon advised, waving his hand in the air.

"But _it is_ a big deal! It's a huge deal!" Elena objected. "Don't pretend it isn't."

Damon sighed. "I_ knew_ you'd get all emotional on me." Damon already predicted how she would react, and he was prepared for it. "Look, you don't have to decide right this minute, but it's something you need to think about soon... _very soon_."

"I don't want you to take it the wrong way. It's just... overwhelming," Elena said.

"_I know_... I get it. I understand. But you don't even have to worry about all of that right now. Just think of it as a safety net," Damon suggested. "Jeremy and Ric both have rings, but what do _you_ have?"

Elena came up blank. "Well, nothing."

"If you have my blood in your system, and you die... _you'll come back_," he said quietly. "And _then_ you can decide if you really want to hang around or not."

"That's how it works?" Elena asked.

He took another sip from Elena's iced tea. "That's how it works. You drink, you die, you wake up. Story of my life."

"How long does it last?" Elena asked.

"Forever..." Damon said bluntly.

Elena shook her head. "No. In my system, I mean."

"For that amount... about twenty four hours or so," Damon answered. "But don't push your luck."

"Any side effects?" Elena asked.

"Mild euphoria..."

Elena nodded.

"Spontaneous, miraculous healing..."

Elena nodded.

"Increased sex drive..."

Elena raised her eyebrows. "Now you're joking around."

Damon smirked. "Come on, Elena, when do I _ever_ joke around?"

Elena smiled. "Frequently."

Elena left a few bills on the table for her tea and fries. "Well, I have to get going... Jeremy is expecting me." Elena abruptly stood up and slipped the vial into her pocket. "Thank you," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He nodded, and Elena walked out the door. Then Damon headed straight to the bar, eager to drown his sorrows.

* * *

The candlelight memorial was a somber scene. At nightfall, the school grounds were packed with students. The turnout was huge. Just about _everyone_ was there. Everyone _except Stefan_, of course, which allowed the Gilberts to breathe a little easier. Orange flames flickered atop white wax candles, reflected off of the snow-covered ground and lit up the night. Jeremy and Elena paid their respects and shared in the loss of one of their peers. And who was the raven-haired figure who materialized out of the crowd, carrying a candle and looking rather displeased about it? None other than Damon Salvatore.

"I'm glad you're here," Elena said.

"_I'm not_," Damon fired back. "I still say you're crazy for showing up."

Elena smiled. "I know. But thank you anyway."

"That's me," Damon sighed. "Ever the faithful protector."

People were starting to pack up and leave when Matt and Caroline started talking with Elena. Jeremy was hungry, and remembering that Alaric's kitchen was almost empty, he figured he would grab a snack for the road.

"I'm just going to run into the cafeteria and get something from the snack machine," Jeremy said. "Any of you guys want something?"

Elena wasn't interested. "No, thanks."

"Nothing for me, thanks," Matt said. Caroline shook her head.

"Okay, be right back," Jeremy told Elena, touching her on the shoulder.

"Jer!" Elena scolded. "Wait for us. Don't go alone."

Jeremy shrugged her off and held up his hand, proudly displaying his magical ring. "I'm cool, quit whining..." He made his way towards the half-darkened school. Elena looked concerned.

"Relax, I'll go with him," Damon told Elena, and he began walking with Jeremy. "Hurry up, Butterfinger boy. Grab your snack and let's get the hell out of here." Elena watched them disappear into the building. She continued to chat with Matt and Caroline for a few minutes, up until the point where they were about to leave. Most of the students were already cleared out. Elena said goodbye to Caroline and Matt and headed towards the school to meet up with Damon and Jeremy.

Elena opened the door and went inside the dark building. It seemed _too__ quiet_. "Jeremy? Damon?" She called out, but no response came back. She headed to the snack machine and was relieved to see Jeremy with his headphones on, chomping on a Snickers bar, chocolaty crumbs falling onto the front of his jacket. Elena approached him and he pulled one headphone off an ear.

"Where's Damon? Let's get going. This place is creepy at night," Elena said.

"He's right around here somewhere," Jeremy said.

Elena walked further down the hallway. The school looked eerie in that there weren't many lights on, there were stretches of darkness down many of the long locker-lined hallways.

"Damon?" Elena called out. No answer came back. The building was quiet, but from the very end of this dark hallway Elena could have sworn she heard a pounding sound that was sort of like someone had kicked an empty oil drum. She slowly walked further down the hall to investigate.

"Damon?" Elena tried again, but there was no answer. There was a dark stretch of hallway ahead, and that's where the sound came from. Elena went further, and she heard it again. It came from just around the corner. Elena turned the corner and there was nothing in sight. But when the sound struck again, it was right next to Elena's ear, and she jumped back, startled by the fact that the sound was coming from _inside_ one of the lockers. She nervously stepped forward, unaware that she had just stepped into a puddle of blood, which dripped out of the bottom of the locker and ran onto the floor. Elena reached out and lifted the latch, opening the locker door, and she screamed as a petite brunette girl lurched forward out of the locker right onto Elena, and they both crashed to the floor. The delirious girl gasped for air and spit blood, clutching at her own throat as blood spilled from her gaping wounds and splattered onto Elena's clothes, painting them deep red.

Elena squirmed out from under the girl, stood up, and ran as fast as she could back to Jeremy. She sprinted towards the snack machine but there was no sign of Jeremy there, until she turned the corner and saw him with his headphones on, arms crossed over his chest, leaning up against some lockers in the dim hallway. "Jeremy! Jeremy!" She shouted, but he obviously couldn't hear her. By the time Elena reached him, she realized something was dreadfully wrong. His eyes were open but he was still, and he was clearly not breathing. Elena panicked. "Jeremy?" She touched his face, but it felt cold. She shrieked and jerked her hand back, and Jeremy's body slumped over and fell to the ground. His arms unfolded to reveal a wooden stake buried deep into his chest, and his shirt was wet and stained with fresh blood.

"Jeremy! Come on, wake up!" Elena cried as she crouched over his lifeless body. She put her fingers to his neck, desperate to find a pulse, when she heard footsteps coming up behind her. Elena turned to see the dark figure approaching. Her _fight or flight_ instincts kicked in, and she ran, but she still felt the presence getting catching up and getting closer to her. She was being chased. She sprinted down the dark hallway, desperately trying to get to the exit. She plowed right into the door but it wouldn't open. She threw her weight at the door to no avail; it wouldn't budge. Elena then spun around and ran back the other way. But as she turned the corner, there he was. Stefan appeared from out of nowhere and blocked her path of escape, and he just stood there, looking cold, dark, and emotionless.

"Hello Katherine," Stefan said. "Do you like to dance?"

Elena backed up. "Stefan, it's me, Elena!"

Stefan didn't say anything but he started moving towards her. Elena immediately bolted in the opposite direction, but she knew she was in a world of trouble. Just when she thought she might have a chance, she turned another corner, but was shocked to run right into Stefan's waiting arms. She tried to scream, but he was quick to silence her with a hand over her mouth, and he dragged her into a dark classroom while she kicked and struggled. Stefan closed the door behind them and set her down. She stepped backwards but collided with a desk, stumbled, and fell to the floor. The classroom only had one door, and Stefan was blocking it. She was completely trapped.

"Stefan, let me go! _This isn't you!_" Elena shouted. She stood up and got behind a desk as her last form of protection.

Stefan stepped closer. "Oh, _it is me_, Katherine," he said. "It's _all_ me." He forcefully knocked the desk over and grabbed Elena by the arms.

"_I'm not Katherine! _It's me, Elena!" she cried, her voice shaking.

"What's the difference?" Stefan spat angrily. "You _both_ _killed me._"

"Please don't do this!" she tearfully pleaded. "You're on human blood. You're out of control. You're not in your right mind!"

"Oh, but I am," Stefan said. "Things are all _so very clear_ right now. And I'm sorry to say it, but we're just not working out."

Elena gulped. "_This isn't you!_" she cried. "You would never hurt me, Stefan!"

Stefan's grip tightened. "That's where you're wrong," he snarled. "I'll ruin you, like you ruined me."

"What do you want from me?" Elena sobbed.

"Just to enjoy you, while you last," Stefan said coldly. And with that, he pulled her hair, jerking her head backwards, exposing her neck. Elena's screams were muted as she felt the sting of his fangs sink into the skin of her throat, and her own blood being drained from her body at an alarming rate. She struggled in vain as her vision faded, and she felt her life slipping away. It was only a matter of moments before she succumbed to darkness.

* * *

Elena floated in a cloud of shadows. It felt oddly warm; detached from the world, but not unpleasant. She felt like she was falling in slow-motion, sort of like the videos you see of astronauts floating around inside of a space shuttle, but it didn't last long. Her eyes were still closed when she fell into what felt like ice-cold water. The chill took her breath away. She gasped and struggled, but sank like a stone into the depths of this oceanic abyss, holding her breath for as long as she could stand, until it felt like her lungs would just pop and the need to inhale overwhelmed her. She took a breath and drew in a great volume of icy water into her lungs. But suddenly, it wasn't water anymore; it was air! Glorious air! Elena breathed deeply and gratefully, and she opened her eyes to see the darkness gradually dissolving to reveal household objects around her. It took a moment for Elena to acclimate to her new surroundings, until she realized that she was laying on the sofa at Alaric's.

After several minutes, Elena shook off the firm grip the dream state had on her awareness, and the peaceful sight of Jeremy sleeping soundly allowed her to finally breathe a sigh of relief. It was just a dream. As her mental clarity returned, she pieced together what actually happened last night. After her meeting with Damon, she went back to Alaric's, laid down, and obviously ended up sleeping right through half of the night. She didn't even go to the memorial. Even still, Elena couldn't help but to go to the bathroom mirror, splash some cold water on her face, and examine her neck for bite marks, because it had all seemed _so vivid_ and _real__._ Upon regaining her composure, Elena slipped back under her blankets on the sofa. She glanced over at Alaric's grandfather clock, which showed 3:16 a.m. Elena wasn't sure what to do with herself. It was too early to get up, but she was too wound up to go back to sleep.

The nightmare still draped over Elena's psyche like a shroud. She couldn't make herself forget the horrific images. The dark, foreboding feeling that she experienced last night had only became intensified by the dream. Elena always paid attention to her dreams. She often had a bit of an intuitive sense about things that were coming around the corner; not in the sense that her dreams came true, but more that they _meant something, _that they showed _something important_ that she was supposed to take note of.

Elena sat up in the dark, reached over and switched on the lamp on the end table beside her sofa. She reached down into her overnight bag which sat on the floor, and pulled out her diary and a ballpoint pen. Elena usually found that writing down her thoughts helped her to gain some perspective when things got _crazy_ in her life, so she opened her diary to a blank page and began to write:

_Something awful is going to happen today._

"Okay, so this really isn't helping right now," she thought, putting her pen down. Elena reached down into her bag, and took out the vial of Damon's blood. She held it in the light, looked at it, _examined_ it. Elena stared into that tube of deep red and wondered what it would be like to "come back," or if she could even _deal with_ coming back, and everything after. It certainly wasn't something she _desired_ at this point, but the option was right there in her hand.

It was amazing how that tiny little vial was such a _big deal_. Not only about life and death, but also love. Elena recognized that even though Damon downplayed its significance, he had given her his own _blood_, his life essence, and this was not something to be taken lightly. After all, vampires don't just _give it away_ for no reason; their very nature is to _take it_. Damon gave her this blood out of love, and there also was an implied commitment attached, in that he had to want her around for eternity.

Elena figured it was now or never, and she made her decision. She opened the cap, and she slowly brought the vial to her lips, but stopped when a single drop of blood landed on her tongue. She licked her lips, curiously exploring the taste, which was uniquely salty-sweet, and more palatable than expected. Then she closed her eyes, tipped back the vial, took its contents into her mouth, and swallowed. Then she sat back on the sofa and rejoined her diary. She was ready to author some more depressing prose, but she found that her mood had changed for the better. Suddenly, she didn't feel so much _doom and gloom_ anymore. She felt strong, and more in control of her emotions. She relaxed as wave of bliss coursed over her. It felt great. It was much more effective than her usual remedy for depression, which was ice cream. It must be the blood, she thought, remembering her conversation with Damon. Elena looked at her hands. She had cut her index finger a few days ago. It was a fairly deep cut, and was visible earlier in the day, but now there was barely any evidence of it. "Amazing," Elena thought as she turned and observed her own reflection in the bay window, which looked like a huge black mirror, due to the contrast of the darkness outside and the lighting inside. Elena couldn't see _outside_, so she had no idea that just behind that window stood Stefan, who could see _inside_.


	10. Family Reunion

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 10: FAMILY REUNION**

* * *

Elena laid awake on Alaric's sofa. It was still early, not yet 6:30 a.m., but she decided that she would be able to do her morning routine and have extra time to make breakfast for Jeremy and Alaric. After spending a little bit _too long_ in a hot shower, she toweled off and picked out her clothes for the day; blue jeans, and a pink top. "Wait! No; not pink," she thought. Elena remembered the last time she wore a pink shirt, she nearly bled to death at the Lockwood's masquerade ball. With the terrifying dream she had last night, she superstitiously did not want to do anything that could tempt fate. "Better go with black," she thought. "I'm in a dark mood."

Elena scrounged around in Alaric's sparsely-stocked kitchen to see if she could put together a decent breakfast. "Blueberry pancakes; that should do it," she thought. It wasn't all that much, but "the boys" were extremely appreciative, and Alaric especially enjoyed the departure from his usual diet of black coffee and bad news. The three of them sat down at the table for breakfast and conversation.

"Great pancakes, Elena," Jeremy mumbled as he wolfed down a short stack.

"Yeah! These are really out of sight," Alaric added. "Thanks Elena."

The after-image of her nightmare was still hanging over Elena's head, and she felt like it was her responsibility to strike some sensibility into Jeremy. "Jeremy, just promise me one thing," she said. "If something happens and Stefan comes after me, don't try to be a hero. Just let it go."

Jeremy shook his head. "You know I can't do that, Elena," he said. Pancake crumbs fell out of the corner of his mouth. "But don't be so worried, I've got _this_, remember?" He wiggled his fingers and flashed around the silver ring that Uncle John had passed on to him.

Elena sighed. "Don't get cocky, Jer. We still don't even know the details of what that ring will, or won't, protect you from. Have you ever thought about that?"

"She's right," Alaric said. "I mean it'll protect you from death by _supernatural_ elements. But it _won't_ protect you from _yourself_."

"I get the point," Jeremy said. "So you guys think Stefan would try for a repeat performance today?"

"Never can tell," Elena said.

"I hate to interrupt," Alaric said, his eyes darting back and forth between the two Gilberts, "but we've got _another little snag_ we need to discuss. Actually, a pretty big snag."

That certainly got their attention. "What's up?" Jeremy asked.

"I got a voicemail from Jenna last night," Alaric said ominously. "She's coming home _early_." Elena and Jeremy exchanged concerned glances.

"_How_ early?" Elena asked anxiously.

Alaric gulped down some coffee. "_To__day__._ Her flight comes in at three."

"She never mentioned it to _us_," Elena complained. Jeremy nodded in agreement.

"She was planning to surprise you," Alaric said. "Sorry for spoiling it."

"We'll just have to roll with it and go home tonight, as if everything were normal," Jeremy said.

"Which brings us to the next issue..." Alaric sipped more coffee before moving on to the difficult question. "Look, I know it's not my place to get involved in your family matters, but don't you two think it's about time that Jenna learns the truth about what's really going on in this town?"

Elena shook her head. "It's a difficult thing. I mean, we _want_ to tell her... but I really don't think today is the day. Especially not with everything going on at once."

"Yeah," Jeremy concurred. "It would shake up her world. Plus with the whole 'Stefan is a serial killer' thing, who knows what would happen."

"Maybe once things cool down on that front," Elena added.

Alaric nodded. "I really don't want to keep these secrets from her anymore, but I see your point. Anyway, Jenna's making dinner tonight, and I'm invited, so..."

"See ya there," Jeremy said.

"Yeah. Should be... _fun_," Alaric said, sipping his coffee.

* * *

Stefan Salvatore strutted coolly from the restroom area of the busy airport, toting his leather jacket over one shoulder on this unseasonably warm day. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as his keen hearing tuned in to the distant voices behind him: "_I think she fainted...__I don__'t think she__'s__ breathing...__ somebody call for help!_" Stefan knew it was incredibly foolish to do that in public, but he just couldn't help himself. He had only intended to grab a quick drink. A pint at the most was all he truly _needed_, but once he got a taste, he found it nearly impossible to pull himself away. _Oh well_, he thought. Stefan just didn't care today. In fact, the more he fed on live human beings, the less he cared about _anything__,_ except where and when he would get his next fix. He figured the risk was necessary. After all, he had _work_ to do, and he couldn't do it on an empty stomach.

Stefan's eyes scanned around the airport terminal. He checked out every blond woman in sight until he recognized his target. She was wearing a long tan overcoat and lugging two suitcases. Stefan approached her silently from behind. His early morning stalking and eavesdropping around Alaric's house was about to pay off. And if the plan _worked_, all of the risk would have been worth it.

"Can I help you with those bags?" Stefan asked.

Jenna spun around to see who was talking, and was overtaken with surprise when her eyes made contact with the dashing young Salvatore brother. "_Stefan!_" she gushed. "_What on earth_ are you doing here?"

"Giving you a ride home, _of course,_" Stefan said with as much charm as he could muster. Jenna was shocked and overjoyed. "Ric let it slip that you were coming back early. And since he couldn't make it out here, I decided to take it upon myself."

Jenna was in awe. "How thoughtful! I'm perfectly fine with riding in cabs but... thank you! I feel so... well, like I'm _home__!_"

Stefan smiled. "Here, let me take those bags for you." He picked up her luggage, and they began walking out to Stefan's car.

Jenna had always been impressed with Stefan's chivalry around Elena, but this was above and beyond anything she'd expected. "Stefan, you're the very image of a perfect gentleman."

If only she knew just how accurate that statement was.

* * *

"You can just leave the bags by the stairs, I'll bring them up later," Jenna instructed as Stefan hefted her luggage through the front door of the Gilbert house. He looked around the place and exhaled. It had been a while since he had been there, and it felt _good_ to be back.

"I had a great time in Vermont, but I'm _so glad_ to be back. Back where I'm needed," Jenna said as she went into the kitchen. "Well, it's not like Jeremy and Elena really _need_ me at all, but..."

Stefan smiled and leaned up against the doorway of the kitchen. "They humor you?"

Jenna laughed. "You could say that!"

"Anything else I can help you with, while I'm here?" he asked.

Jenna waved him off. "Oh, you've done so much already! But there might be one more thing..."

"What's that?" Stefan asked, anticipating the question.

"Join us for dinner!" Jenna shouted with excitement.

Stefan cocked his head timidly. "Oh, I _really_ wish I could," he said, feigning disappointment, "but I have some urgent matters to take care of elsewhere."

"Aw, that's a shame," Jenna whined. "Elena will be really upset that you can't join us."

"I kind of doubt that," Stefan said, defeated.

"What do you mean?" Jenna asked with honest concern.

Stefan moved into the kitchen and leaned over the counter top. "Actually, Elena and I sort of hit a rough patch."

Jenna was surprised and saddened. "Oh, I'm truly sorry to hear that, Stefan. I really had no idea."

"I hate to say it," Stefan said, "but she seems to have fallen under my brother's influence."

Jenna sighed in disgust. "_Damon..._"

"Yeah," Stefan said. "Anyway, he's always had a certain determination where Elena is concerned. I suppose he saw an opportunity, and he took it."

Jenna held up a hand. "Oh, you don't have to tell me... I know the way his type work. I just find it hard to believe that Elena would actually fall for it!"

Stefan nodded. "I just worry that he's leading her down a dark path."

"I'm sure it's just a phase. Part of the whole teen rebellion thing," Jenna said reassuringly. "Elena's never been attracted to the _bad boy__ types_ in the past... and I have no idea _why_ she'd start now. Maybe she just needs to mature a little bit more, before she can appreciate you for who you really are."

Stefan picked up a large butcher's knife from the counter and admired it, running his finger carefully along the cool steel blade. "Yeah, you're probably right," he said. "You know, I wonder if you might do me a favor."

"Of course. I already owe you one for the ride," Jenna said. "What can I do?"

Stefan looked her in the eyes. "I know you've been away from home, and you haven't been drinking your usual tea, have you?"

Jenna's pupils dilated and she became entranced. "No."

"_Excellent_," Stefan said. "Now listen to me very carefully. Here's what I want you to do..."

* * *

Later that evening, Jeremy and Elena were putting out silverware on the dining room table. "_I can't believe_ Ric ruined my surprise," Jenna said to Jeremy and Elena.

"I didn't mean to," Alaric said. "I was just brimming with so much excitement, I guess I let it slip. I'm sorry."

"You can put your sorries in a sack, mister!" Jenna scolded playfully. "You can't keep a secret!" Alaric and Elena shared a furtive glance over the irony of the situation, which was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

Elena was about to say something, but Jenna cut her off. "Who in the world would that be..." Jenna muttered as she answered the door. Her curiosity gave way to frustration when she saw that it was Damon.

Damon feigned enthusiasm to the best of his ability. "Jenna! Welcome home. _So __wonderful_ to see you again." He reached out to embrace her, but she refused.

Jenna crossed her arms. "Quit faking it, Damon."

Damon smirked. "I'm growing on you, I can tell..."

"Don't hold your breath," Jenna fired back.

"I invited him to dinner," Elena interrupted and waved Damon in. "Hope that's not a problem..."

"_Of course not,_" Jenna grumbled through gritted teeth, and begrudgingly admitted Damon into the house. "Elena, would you help me in the kitchen for a minute?" Before Elena could answer, Jenna tugged her by the shirt sleeve and whisked her off into the kitchen.

"Alright Elena," Jenna said, "what's gotten into you? I go away for a week and now you're running around with _Damon__,_ of all people, and inviting him to dinner?"

Elena really didn't want to have this conversation. "Jenna, please... I don't expect you to understand. Just try to be more friendly with him. He's been very supportive of me during some... trying times. And he'll probably be around here more often..."

"So it's _true__..._"Jenna said sternly. "Alright, what did you do to Stefan?" she demanded. "Poor Stefan! He must be absolutely _c__rushed__!_"

"Look, I didn't do _anything_ to Stefan!" Elena grumbled with a restrained voice. "He's coping... in his own way."

"I just don't understand this, Elena," Jenna said. "You and Stefan seemed _so __perfect_ together! _Damon_ is just..." Jenna groaned. "What on earth happened?"

"Not everyone is who they appear to be," Elena said. "But I really don't want to talk about this. There are a lot of things I'd like to explain to you, but now is just not the right time."

The two went back to the living room only to find Damon finishing up a phone conversation.

"Alright, I'll be right there," Damon said and ended the call.

"What's up?" Elena asked.

"Looks like I won't be able to stay for dinner after all," Damon told Elena. "I'll explain later." And with that, he stormed out the door.

Jenna was flabbergasted. "Is he _leaving__ already_?"

Elena frowned. "Don't pretend that you're _not_ delighted, Jenna."

Jenna perked up. "Speaking of _deligh__ts_, I've got something to share with you all!" She ran into the kitchen and came back holding a little green box in her hands. Alaric and Jeremy gathered around and Jenna opened the box.

"You guys _have to_ taste these," Jenna giggled with enthusiasm. "They're pure Vermont maple sugar. They're _unreal_. I couldn't stop eating them on the flight home! It's a miracle that I still have teeth!"

Jenna, Jeremy and Alaric treated themselves to the sugary goodness of the maple-leaf shaped candies. "You're right," Jeremy said, chomping down greedily. "These are _fan__tastic__!_"

"You know, I haven't had these since I was a kid," Alaric said. "Brings back memories, that's for sure."

"Elena, aren't you going to try some?" Jenna asked, holding out the box of treats. "They're going fast!"

Elena shook her head. "No, thank you... that kind of stuff is too sweet for me."

"Your loss!" Jeremy exclaimed as he popped one after the other into his mouth.

"Don't be a glutton, Jer," Elena admonished. "You'll make yourself sick before dinner."

Jeremy rolled his eyes as he chomped down on another maple-leaf shaped confection, while sugary crumbs fell onto his shirt front. "Thanks for the warning, _mom__,_" he replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, don't be such a buzz kill, Elena," Jenna said. "You don't know what you're missing!"

"Yes, I do," Elena said.

"Oh no! I forgot about the turkey in the oven!" Jenna exclaimed.

"Don't worry; I'll get it," Elena said. "You three can stay and enjoy the beginning of tooth decay." She disappeared into the kitchen.

"I'm a _terrible_ cook," Jenna whined to Alaric. "Sorry!"

Alaric shrugged. "I'm not a picky eater."

Jenna giggled. "You always know just what to say to cheer me up!"

* * *

"Poor Aunt Jenna! She'd probably boil a pop-tart if no one told her any better," Elena muttered while she frantically worked over the stove in a desperate attempt to compensate for Jenna's lack of culinary skills, when a thud behind her stole her attention. Alaric staggered into the kitchen, hunched over and holding his hand against the door frame to brace himself. Elena ran to his aid just as he collapsed onto to the floor. He was barely able to get a word out before losing consciousness. "'lena... _run__!_"

Elena was far too shocked to pay attention to, much less comprehend his message. She called out for help from Jenna and Jeremy, but they didn't respond. Elena ran back into the living room to find them both sprawled out on the floor, Jenna's box of maple candies scattered all around them. Elena had just begun to put the pieces together and figure out what was happening when the front door burst open.

"_Stefan!_" Elena gasped.

Stefan swiftly stepped over the bodies to get to Elena. "Excellent work, Jenna," he said to the unconscious woman. He grabbed Elena by the wrist with an unrelenting iron grip. "_But y__ou__..._" he growled, "why couldn't you have been born with a _sweet tooth_ like the rest of your family? It would have made my work _so much__ easier_. Now you'll have to witness my fall from grace up close and personal."

Stefan forcefully pulled her across the room, stomping and crushing the very candies that he himself had drugged earlier in the afternoon. Once he did that, it was a simple matter of compelling Jenna to serve them to everyone right after Damon received the phone call. Things were all working pretty much according to plan, Stefan thought. Elena would certainly put up a fight, but he could handle that. She was at his mercy now.

"What did you do to them?" Elena demanded.

"It's nap time, that's all," he snickered. He led her to the staircase and started pushing her up the stairs. "Get up there," he ordered. "Don't test my patience."

He pushed her all the way up the stairs until they reached Elena's bedroom. "What the hell do you want?" she whimpered.

"I want you to pack a bag," Stefan said. "You and I are leaving town."


	11. I Never Told You What I Do for a Living

**SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER**

**CHAPTER 11: I NEVER TOLD YOU WHAT I DO FOR A LIVING**

* * *

"Let's go!" Stefan gruffly pushed Elena on her way up the stairs and into her bedroom.

"Start packing," Stefan ordered as he stood in the doorway, blocking her exit. It was now clear to Elena that the gentle spirited Stefan was nowhere to be found tonight. He was edgy, aggressive, and demanding. It was truly a disturbing cocktail of traits. He looked like the same old Stefan, but she noticed something different about his eyes. The glimmer wasn't there. They looked sad and sort of _lost_, she thought.

Elena backed into her room. She was trapped. Stefan blocked her only path of escape, except for the window, but a two-story drop was not Elena's first choice to get out of the situation. Besides, he was a vampire, and he could easily outrun her even if she did manage to slip away. Elena had no choice but to face him, and hopefully reason with him.

"Let me out of here," Elena demanded. Stefan could hear her heart racing.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked.

"No," Elena said.

"_You should be_."

"Why did you drug them?" she asked, her voice slightly shaking. She was frightened but tried not to show it, and figured that mundane questions might buy her some time to find a way out of this mess.

"You're a difficult person to get a hold of these days," Stefan answered. "I just couldn't pass up an opportunity to get you alone."

"You could have _called_ first," Elena mildly scolded.

Stefan scoffed. "Yeah, and then you would just tell Damon, and he'd trap me and lock me up."

"So you don't trust me?" Elena asked.

"I wish I could, but I can't. Not right now," Stefan said.

"What do you expect to get out of this?" Elena asked. "I don't understand."

"We'll figure that out later," Stefan said. "Right now, we just have to leave."

"So what? We run away? And that's supposed to fix everything?" Elena persisted. "You know it won't."

"Elena-" Stefan objected.

"No, Stefan," she cut him off. "This isn't the way to do things."

"I had no choice!" he shouted. "Everyone is out to get me. You know that."

Elena took another step back. She calmed her nerves and decided to confront him directly. "What do you want?"

"I told you: _pack a bag_," Stefan ordered. "We have to leave tonight."

Elena shook her head defiantly. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Stefan."

Stefan became irritated. He stepped out of the doorway and into the room. "It's not up for debate, Elena. I'm not asking! I'm telling you to _pack a bag right now!_"

Elena summoned her courage. "Look," she said calmly as she slid her cell phone from her pocket. "I'm going to call Damon and we can all sit down and talk about this-"

"No!" Stefan shouted. He lunged forward and snatched the phone from her hands.

"Whatever the problem is, we can all work it out together," Elena suggested. "You, me, and Damon."

"Damon _is_ the problem!" Stefan shouted. "Don't you understand by now? We have to get away from _him_, and not a moment too soon."

"He just wants to help you get through this, just like I do," Elena assured him.

"Yeah, by caging me up like an animal?" Stefan scoffed. "_It doesn't work_, Elena."

"It worked the last time," Elena said. "Once the human blood is out of your system-"

"Just shut up!" Stefan furiously grabbed her by the arms and shook her. "Stop talking like you're an authority on things _you're __totally clueless_ about! _How could you possibly know_ what it's like? You can't, and you don't. You _think_ you know me and Damon, but you're _wrong_. _You have no idea what it is _to be _like us_, Elena."

Elena struggled under his grip. "Let me out of here, Stefan! This isn't like you."

"Has Damon poisoned your thoughts so much that you really believe I'd hurt you?" Stefan fired back.

"You're not stable right now," Elena said.

"And who are you to judge, Elena?" Stefan shouted. "He's already corrupted you so much, I can barely recognize you."

"That's absurd!" Elena shouted.

"You're drinking blood!" Stefan accused.

Elena shook her head.

"Don't _lie to me_! I saw you!" he shook her. "You still want to play the innocent one? _You are unclean!_"

Elena realized the horror of Stefan spying on her at Alaric's place during all hours of the night. "I don't owe you any explanations."

Stefan continued the rant. "Are you going to start sleeping in a coffin now, too?" He eased up his grip on her arms. "He won't stop until he destroys you; until he makes you _like us_. That's what he wanted all along. I love you, Elena. And I can't stand by and watch while Damon destroys you."

"You're crazy!" Elena shouted as she wriggled herself free from his grip and made a break for the door.

Stefan jumped in the way, blocking her path. "You're not leaving!" he yelled, slapping a lamp off of her dresser. Elena ducked as the lamp flew right past her head, crashed into the wall, and shattered to bits.

"Pack a bag, _now_," Stefan commanded calmly. "You can come along willingly, or I'll sedate you like the others. Make your choice. Either way, we're leaving town." Elena stepped back apprehensively. "I'm only doing this for your own good," he added.

"So what? You're _kidnapping_ me now?" Elena asked. "For my own good?"

Stefan crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll do whatever is necessary to protect you. You should know that by now."

"I don't need your _protection!_" Elena shouted. "I can take care of myself!"

Stefan became irate. "You can't be _trusted_ with yourself. You're under Damon's influence." He shook his head. "I tried _so hard... so hard_ to keep you away from him. But you just had to go and find out for yourself. Now are you going to come along, or do I have to drag you out of here, kicking and screaming?"

Elena thought about it, and there really wasn't any other option. You can't outrun a vampire. The only thing she could do was just play along and hope for the best.

"Alright. Fine. I'll go," Elena conceded. Stefan watched while she calmly took a camping bag out of her closet and set it on the bed, then began to fill it with clothes and personal items. "Where are we going?"

"I haven't decided yet," Stefan said.

"How long?" Elena asked.

Stefan shot her a sideways glance. "As long as it takes," he answered vaguely. Elena didn't want to ask what the 'it' meant. Obviously, he had gotten it into his mind that _she_ was the one who really needed help. Meanwhile, he remained in denial about his own state.

Elena decided that if he had set out to cause her harm, he would have done it by now, so she reasoned that it would be safe to push him a little harder for some answers.

"So... why didn't you ever tell me?" Elena asked while she folded clothes.

Stefan frowned. "About what?"

"Your past."

Stefan looked out the window nervously. "There really isn't much to say."

Elena shook her head. "That's not good enough, Stefan. I know you're a ripper."

Stefan scoffed. "Look, whatever Damon told you, was _exactly_ what he wanted you to hear."

"He's never lied to me," Elena said.

Stefan was agitated. "Elena, he's _all_ lies! _I'm the good brother_. That will never change. It just eats him up inside. That's why he's always set out to destroy my life."

* * *

Elena interrogated him relentlessly. "So what are you saying? That it's all fiction? Are you going to stand there and lie to my face?"

"Look, it's just not what Damon makes it out to be," he pleaded. "He twists everything around to benefit himself. Case in point, he's got you believing his story."

"Then tell me, right now," Elena urged him.

"I _was_ a ripper, once... after I turned. That was a very long time ago," Stefan said calmly. "I don't do that anymore."

Elena pressed on. "I don't believe you. I know what you've done..."

Stefan shook his head. "No."

"There's no sense in denying it any longer," Elena said.

"Elena, please!" he begged. "It's not me! It's really not me."

"Then who?" Elena challenged.

"I don't know! I think I'm being set up!" he shouted in frustration.

Elena was confused. "How is that possible?"

"It's Damon!" he shouted. "Don't you get it by now? He's setting me up. He's behind it all. He's _always_ behind it."

Elena shook her head. "That's crazy. Damon wouldn't do that."

"Elena, please! Has he really gotten his claws so deep into you? Come on, you know me better."

Elena shook her head. "I _thought_ I did. But now, I'm not sure if we ever really knew each other."

Stefan became frustrated. "You don't even know what you're saying, Elena! He's got you under his spell, like Katherine did to me when I was human. Your feelings for Damon _aren't real!_"

"Do you even hear what you're saying right now? What you're accusing Damon of?" Elena challenged.

"Because _I know_ what he's capable of, Elena! Please tell me you're not so blinded by 'love' that you can't see how he's manipulating you? I'm _the good brother_. You know that. We belong together."

Elena shook her head.

* * *

Stefan's voice softened. "Elena, please... I need you right now, okay? If you turn against me, I'm lost."

"I said I'll go with you, but I need the truth first," Elena said.

Stefan nodded.

"Are you ripping again?" Elena asked.

Stefan shook his head. "Look, it's like this..."

"It's a yes or no question," Elena said.

Stefan gently held her by the shoulders. "Elena, please-"

"That girl at school..." Elena pressed on. "You killed her, didn't you?"

Stefan shook his head. "No..."

"You're still lying!" Elena shouted.

"Elena, listen..." Stefan pleaded.

"No more excuses! You're ripping again!" Elena shouted.

"_I have it under control!_" Stefan screamed.

"Then why is there blood on your hands?" Her voice shook.

Stefan suddenly let go of her and looked at his own hands, noticing red under his fingernails for the first time. He shook his head. "I don't know what this is..."

"It's _blood_, Stefan," she said.

Stefan stared at his hands and shook his head in disbelief. "No; it can't be. I don't..."

Elena backed up. "You killed her."

Stefan's gaze remained fixated on his hands as if in trance. "No..." Stefan's tone seemed to suggest he was confused or wasn't sure of his own words.

"You really killed her," Elena said sadly. "You killed all of them."

* * *

Stefan snapped out of it and remembered that time was of the essence. "Elena, there's no time for this now. Let's go. I'll explain later."

"Just like always," Elena muttered.

"_What's_ like always?"

"Remember when you said you didn't want there to be any secrets between us?" Elena asked. "Did you even mean it, or was that _another_ lie?"

"Elena, _I'm a vampire_, okay? If you think it's all sunshine and roses, you're only fooling yourself," Stefan said bluntly. "Don't blame me. What I do, is who I am."

"It's not even a matter of _what_ you've done," Elena said. "It's about you keeping secrets from me and _never_ coming clean until right when I'm about to discover the truth for myself. This isn't the first time."

"I didn't want you to know that this side of me exists!" Stefan cried out. "I _never_ wanted you to have to see that ugliness. Don't you understand? I did it all for you..."

"But it _does_ exist!" Elena shouted. No matter how much you try to hide it, or deny it, or lie about it, or wish it away, it's still there!"

Stefan shook his head. "But how can you stand there and grind _me_ down while you give _Damon_ a free pass?"

Elena became irate. "How can you look down your nose at Damon, when you know very well you've done _worse_? You have no right! All the years you've spent running him down, calling yourself _the good brother_, when you knew the truth all along... you have _no right_ to point your finger, Stefan."

* * *

Stefan's patience had reached its limit. "There's no time for this now! Let's go!" he shouted. At the very moment that Elena zipped up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, he grabbed her by the wrist, furiously led her out from her bedroom, and frantically dragged her down the stairs. But they only made it halfway down before they had to stop abruptly: Damon was standing at the base of the staircase. Stefan jerked Elena back in a huff.

"Get out of the way, Damon! It's over. _You've lost_," Stefan growled at his brother.

"I didn't think anyone was keeping score," Damon said. "Why don't you come on down, and we'll talk about it."

"The time for talking is over. You're not going to lock me up again. I'm walking out that door, and you're not going to stop me," Stefan said.

"Oh, you can go wherever you want," Damon said. "I just can't guarantee your safety when you get down here."

"Elena's coming with me," Stefan said. "Get out of our way."

"Come on, Stef!" Damon pleaded. "This whole _role reversal_ experiment is getting tired, don't you think? Life was so much more_ fun_ when _I_ was the loose cannon!"

"Damon, please," Elena said. "It's okay. Let us through."

"You heard her," Stefan said. "She's coming with me."

"How did he threaten you, Elena?" Damon interrogated her. "What story did he give this time? Do you feel sorry for him already? Did he give you the usual guilt trip? How did he convince you that _he _is the_ victim_ and the whole world is against him?"

"Shut up, Damon!" Stefan shouted. "We're walking out of here right now!"

"It's okay, Damon," Elena said. "Let us go."

Damon was flabbergasted."No, it's _not okay_, Elena!"

"We talked. I agreed to go with him. He needs my help," Elena said.

"_Your help?_" Damon fired back with disgust. "There's _nothing_ you can do for him, except _lock him up_."

"He asked for my help, and I agreed," Elena said.

"He doesn't want your _help_! He wants _your blood!_" Damon shouted. "Isn't that right, Stefan? He wants it right now. The cravings just keep getting stronger and more unbearable."

"_Just shut up!_" Stefan shouted. "Get out of our way!"

"I'm not letting you out of here," Damon said firmly.

Stefan became agitated and impatient, and in an act of desperation, he grabbed Elena in a strangle hold from behind, and cocked her head to the side, exposing her neck. Elena shrieked and struggled in vain. Damon was ready to charge. "One more step and I'll drain her!" Stefan shouted. "Back off, Damon! Let us out!"

Damon reached into his jacket and pulled out two stakes, one in each hand, and spun them around like a western gunslinger. He stared up at his brother defiantly. "Your first bite would be your last."

"Or I could just snap her neck before you get up here," Stefan said coldly. "Your choice."

Damon froze.

"Aw, isn't that sweet? Damon _pretending_ to care," Stefan mocked. "Don't look so _worried_, brother. She's got _your blood_ in her system."

Damon looked surprised.

"Oh, didn't you know that?" Stefan went on. "She'll come back and be just like us. That's what you wanted all along; isn't that right, Damon? To make her a sick and twisted creature, _just like us._"

"Damon, he's bluffing," Elena pleaded. "He won't do it. He's just scared and feels threatened. Just let us go."

"You're _far too trusting_, Elena!" Damon shouted.

"If he was going to hurt me he would have already done it," Elena said.

"You're being _incredibly naive!_" Damon shouted.

"You heard her! Step aside, Damon!" Stefan shouted.

"Guys, please! You don't have to do this," Elena shouted. "Just let us by, Damon. Please. It'll be alright."

Damon stared at Elena fiercely. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said, and he stepped aside, and gestured towards the open door, inviting them to leave.

"Go ahead, Stefan. It's okay," Elena said. Stefan took a step down the stairs, loosening his hold on Elena. He was very apprehensive, and he stared down at Damon, anticipating a sudden attack.

Rather than risk going forward, Stefan decided to back off. "I don't trust him," Stefan told Elena. "Let's go back..." Stefan thought he would grab Elena and make a jump out of one of the second story windows, thinking that was his only hope for evading Damon at this point. But it was too late. Elena saw a window of opportunity and seized it. She swiftly pulled the vervain dart from her pocket and, careful not to have the needle rejected by his heavy leather jacket, she plunged it hard into the exposed flesh at the back of Stefan's neck. He groaned and struggled to maintain control of his muscles as they became stiff and he lost control of his movements. Then he fell forward, tumbled and rolled down the flight of stairs, and with a thud, crashed onto the floor at Damon's feet.

Damon stood in awe as he looked down at his paralyzed brother. "Talk about a fall from grace," he muttered. It all happened so fast, it took _both_ brothers completely by surprise, and _both_ brothers wondered if Elena had _planned_ that, or if she acted impulsively.

Either way, it didn't matter to Damon. All that mattered was that Elena wasn't harmed, Stefan was captured, and most of all,_ the nightmare was over_.

Damon looked up the staircase. Elena sat at the top, still catching her breath from the roller coaster ride of the adrenaline rush and conflicted emotions. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Elena said, but the tears in her eyes said otherwise.

Damon sighed. "You did _the right thing_," he reassured her.

"It doesn't make it any easier," Elena said.

Damon nodded knowingly.

"Is this really the end of it? Is it really over?" Elena asked with a hoarse voice.

"I think it's more like... the end of the beginning." Damon bent down and with a grunt, hefted Stefan's paralyzed body up over his shoulder. "_Somebody's_ gained weight," he groaned. "Alright fat boy, let's get you locked up."

Elena sniffled. "So what happens now?"

"The usual program," Damon explained. "Lock him up, let him detox from the human blood, pump him up full of bunny blood, and force him to watch Teletubbies until he's no longer a menace to society." Damon started out the front door, but turned back. Elena was still at the top of the stairs. "Are you coming?"

"No. I think I should be here when they wake up," she said, motioning to Jenna, Jeremy, and Alaric who were still passed out on the living room floor.

Damon nodded in acknowledgement, and then quietly carried his saint of a brother out into the night air.


End file.
